Sometimes

There are some days that I wake and breathe and the ground meets my feet. I can look at a day and smile from the shadows of the morning. There are some days that aren't as hard as I thought they should be. Or could be. Or would be.

Some days that I can't breathe. Can't focus. Can't see through the grey.

Mornings, and afternoons, and nights, when all I can do is think of the next day and how ugly my world will still be, as I stare at the cracks forming under my shaking hands.

There are mornings that are choked with guilt;

Afternoons that are drowned out by tears;

Nights that are mauled by muffled screams.

All I can manage is to wait for the next sunrise ...then sunset, wishing for everything else to disappear.

I watch the light fade.

I watch the world fade.

I watch time and myself fade.

Everything I am: a thread slipping through my fingers.

And I chase the tread and I watch it slip.

Original:

"sometimes it isn’t as hard as I thought it would be

sometimes I can lift my head in the morning

I can breath

I can smile

I can imagine the rest of the day being enjoyable

some afternoons all I want to do is cry

some afternoons all I can do is cry

I can’t breath

I can’t focus

I can see my hands tremble to reveal the internal cracks

some nights my throat is chalky with guilt

some nights I want to scream and kick

I can’t sleep

I can’t dream

I can only think of how bad it’s going to be tomorrow

some days....all I can do is wait till the sunsets

some days...all I want is for everything to disappear

I watch the sky

I watch my word

I forget time

I forget myself

because everything I am hangs on a thread slipping through my fingers

and all I do is spend my time chasing the thread

and watching it slip from my fingers"