Waking Up

Blinded.

I did not wish to see the light

today.

I awoke in a patch of night

but I know the night no longer lingers

here.

I’ve been blinded.

But like every morning I must

awaken.

I step out of bed, clinging onto it’s

silhouette;

Begging for a little more time.

Waiting.

I curse my covered window, hidden behind

curtains.

I know it too wishes to sleep, but cannot.

It begs me not to pull them back.

‘Just five more minutes.’

Sound familiar?

Blinded.

I caress the fabrics with an odd gingerness,

until I pull them back and the sun

daunting,

pounds into my body, my face, my eyes

and, like yesterday, I become blind again.

I’ve been blinded.

And I have no wish to see

anything.

If I cannot hide in nights darkness

then perhaps this white shield

may do its job.

Waiting.

I know it’s a matter of time before

I’m unoblivious

the world outside will pull together its shapes and

colours

And I will have to live another day.

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