Day 3:
Waking up felt blurry
As it always did
I stood up uncertainty
Hesitating like a kid
"What day is it?"
I had grumbled strangely
Was that MY voice?
I sound mangy!
Maybe it was the feeling
Of the cool morning air
But it didn't matter
So why should I care?
Steading my feet
And waning my neck
I walk to my calendar
And stare for a sec
There shouldn't be classes
Or work
Or taxes
My eyes were transfixed
On the only clear spot
Of all the boxes
That were all filled up
I half laughed half cried
As i let out a sigh
A free day at last
Naught to stop me letting it pass
YOU ARE READING
My Toxic Thoughts
PoetryAbout a guy named Mors who's sadly inept his life is scary and somewhat unkept However he's still alive in a sense walking through life without a defense
