most mornings, we rise

the sun filling the sky,

sanguineness in our minds.

though our hopes may be high,

anticipations soon shatter our proclamations.

we carry them anyway.

some mornings, we cannot rise.

clouds have intercepted our light,

shadows stage a revolution,

scars weigh heavy on arms, waistlines, and thighs

dripping in lies, energies collide, chaos inside,

we carry them anyway.

our brains rattle with self deprecation, invasive thoughts,

chemicals, and new medications.

turmoil boiling up and flooding,

we are blinded by abstract concepts that lay within us.

to carry mines may be an easier enterprise.

we carry them anyway.

sketchbooks bursting open,

these pages carefully colored, cryptically covered,

jaded and fading,

dripping with ideas

never translated to words.

we carry them anyway.

eating feels like cheating,

serotonin has taken a leave of absence.

this fear of calories transforming to fatalities,

and so we embrace emptiness with open arms.

our own bodies crumbling,

we carry them anyway.

thoughts becoming the enemy,

there’s no limiting this storm.  

we carry dread, anxiety, hopelessness, worthlessness,

we have no control.

we drown in the emanation of the emotions we call our own.

we carry them anyway.

we carry them anyway.