The Day Ahead

Words formed of love, formed of

hate; made from having to

get up out of bed in the early

morning: dragged from the

warmth ready to despise

the long day ahead. It is the

bile that rises with it,

spitting at all who come

too close, too friendly, and

far too loud to stand by.

They clamber about when

all that is wanted is the deep

silence; peace with no

distinct possibility of ending

when reality retakes

hold, yanking one by the

throat, its breath is warm on

the face, as the eyes gaze

up at the hardened world

we have to live in.