You wake up
Under the weight of the night
Wasted in self loathing.
Slog yourself to the day
Your face in the mirror
Dull, tired and bloated.
You nibble on the slice of bread
And down it with a glass of juice.
Your tongue still tastes bitter.
You can sense it coming to possess you – something dark , nauseating and unwanted.
You rise up and dress yourself for work.
Dab some colours to silent the exhaustion your face screams.
Go out to face the world,
Meet some dozen faces
Put up a false show.
The faceless energy still lingers an arms distance wriggling its slimy tentacles to reach you.
You engage with the people
Trying hard to distract your mind.
Your limbs go numb.
The more you resist the more it grips you from the leg upward.
You run to the restroom with uneven steps
You feel choked on your own breath.
Detachment from reality seeps in,
Drop the mask!
It’s okay if you’re not okay sometimes.