The Days That Don’t Exist

There are days,
That hit and miss.
They’re so dark,
A pit bottomless.
These are days,
I often wish,
That I,
Did not exist.
 
I lie in bed,
Depressed paralysis.
A dream,
That I can’t dismiss.
Disassociate,
I can’t resist.
These are the days,
That don’t exist.
 
Days that don’t exist,
They’re very spotty.
My memory,
Is very foggy.
I don’t feel attached,
To my body.
I don’t exist;
I am nobody.  
 
I forget,
That I am somebody.
Some days,
I could be anybody.
But days like these,
Are very shoddy.
They don’t exist;
They’re disembodied.
 
These are the days,
That don’t exist.
Days that are lost,
In the abyss.
Way far off,
In the mental mist.
These are the days,
That don’t exist.