I’ve gotten used to waking up in the morning

just to deal with the pain of trying to accept this wretched reality

At first it’s just my body feeling it, it knows,

without my consciousness informing it

 

Then it seeps in like a tank of reservoir,

which at long last finds a hole to make its glorious escape,

slowly but surely–until nothing is left,

consciousness hurts

 

I spend the next 15 minutes sitting on the bed,

from bleary to teary, processing reality as if its the first time

I look at my phone, hoping for a miracle of sorts

but it never happens

 

Temptation takes over, to check your account

or to send you a message or even to look at your

beautiful face but i know that would be a beautiful mistake

 

Like a bad nightmare, this happens over and over again

each time I wake, I wonder if I am dreaming or that

I woke up from a bad dream

 

Each time I wonder,

I wonder if I will ever stop wondering

When will my body ever learn,

that you are not coming back again