Monday

October 25, 2013
By eatclouds GOLD, Alexandria, Indiana
eatclouds GOLD, Alexandria, Indiana
10 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation. -Graham Green


I should really get up.
I’ve been laying here for an hour.
The sun leaks through the off-white
Shades that cover my window
Reminding me that yet another
Day has begun. Another day with
More people. More places to go,
Things to do.
I’ll probably have homework today.
I look at the alarm clock on my nightstand.
Eight seventeen. I’m late. Mother will be
Displeased. Oh well.
I should really get up.
She’ll probably ground me. Not
Like I ever do anything anyway.
I look again at the clock on my nightstand.
Eight thirty-two.
With a groan, I roll over and let my pillow
Whisper dreams into my ear. My sheets
Hug me, thankful I hadn’t abandoned them.
I let myself be wrapped in their warmth as
I drift back to sleep.
Maybe I’ll get up tomorrow.



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