mornings scratch at my bed-post
like a frustrated cat. my body turns
slowly, but refuses steadfastly to
move out of the cold sheets.
seconds, minutes, hours tick by.
yesterday’s stale saliva is slimy
on my tongue, like bile. i swallow it
and wince- too tired to get up and
sweep my teeth with Colgate.
mornings move out of the day.
slowly, fiery flames lap the sides
of my intestinal walls; spaying juice
like confetti. i close my eyes and try
to block out the roaring echoes inside.
finally, i get up with white noise in my head.
Comments
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see, noooooow you know what it feels like to wake up in the morning... especially when your darn alarm rings or when someone wakes you up! argh! see, this is why you should wake up after 10.30... its like heaven i tell you! HEAVEN!!! whereas, waking up anytime before that is HELL! sorry, but im just very passionate about this waking up situation. okay mocing on, this poem is descriptve, duhh!!! i mean common... your third stanza (too much details ma friend) anyhoo... i hate waking up in the mornings, and this poem described it very well! so i loved this poem good job once again hon. (take my advice: start waking up after 10.30 on weekends)
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"slowly, fiery flames lap the sides
of my intestinal walls; spaying juice
like confetti. i close my eyes and try
to block out the roaring echoes inside.
finally, i get up with white noise in my head."
eckkk i know those feelings.
this whole thing was like me, waking up in the morning.
terrible, terrible.
but it was amazing at the same time.
good jobbb :]
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