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