Auto Immune

I have some kind of symptoms syndrome - a disease disorder

I wake up uneasy after an unrestful night

And i rise onto aching feet,

Supported by bad knees,

And my head pounds in a damaged skull,

My eyes flit and flicker, wrong-sighted,

One lense popped out of my rose-colored glasses.

My stomach growls but it says to wait, or else,

I don’t know who Or Else is,

But i listen

Because I trust my gut even when it’s wrong.

My heart is already tired for the day,

All the spoons are in the sink,

Caked in yesterday’s tired.

I wash them on borrowed energy

And use one to stir my coffee.