The Bleeding

I woke up when I didn't want to wake up.
The sheets were slanted, the comforter sideways...
Whatever way it was, it was comfortable.
Could've slept there for hours, days...
An eternity?

They always told me if my body disappointed me
I just had to remember the mind
Cradled inside my head like a fetus.
I bore something precious and great with a bright future

And during this I bore my death glare into their eyes.

They're stupid.

As long as I could remember, this thing growing in my head
Was connected to my body for survival.
Each run gave it nutrients, each push of weights gave it strength,
Positive attitudes came from continuous routines
Of activity and excellence in such.
I lived for the next test that I knew I could pass
With flying legs and pumping arms.

And now it's gone.  Don't know if I can return,
If I'm welcome there anymore
Since my body's gone to bush
And I have trouble believing (in myself)

The fetus is dying.
My mind is hemmorhaging from the lack of activity
And drive.
It tosses and turns, rolls around,
Trying to get comfortable again.
But it can't.
And it won't.

I'll never lose my mind,
But that doesn't mean it can't bleed to death.