The Day

Today will be a good day.

I will smile as light drips into my room from the red sun rising,

and laugh as I slide off my blankets and onto the floor.

Today will be a good day.

I will forget to eat breakfast as my eyes crack open at noon,

turning on my laptop and remembering everything I need to do.

Work with dates due all at once,

the weight of a car pressing down on my bust.

Today will be a good day.

I will stare at an open document, blank and empty,

my care leached away as the numbness seeps in,

reminding me that the time cares not for personal woes;

moving at the pace of a calm river amidst a storm of fire,

changing with the whim of perception.

Today will be a good day

as I choke on my heaving breathes,

stifling tears and heavy sobs,

hoping the sound of my panic doesn't reach through the thin walls of my room.

Today will be a good day.

I will want to tear away the constraints of my fleshy prison to escape the overwhelming panic

that digs and bubbles and builds under my skin,

threatening to burst out but never daring to provide blissful release.

It will climb my body and fill my veins,

corrupting my thoughts with poison,

crippling my mind without the slightest regard for a moment’s relief.

Tomorrow will be a good day.

My heart will be calm,

and I will smile as rays of light drip into my window from the red sun rising outside.