A Day...

wake up- what's going on, where am I?

clock- 12:34pm.

laying on my back, looking at the ceiling.

I don't want to get up, my day is gone already.

hopeless...tired.

nearly step on the dog.

stagger to the bathroom, look in mirror. yuck.

wipe dried drool off cheek, and mascara from under eye.

contemplate brushing teeth, maybe, maybe not.

coffee...yes. breakfast, no point.

wonder around, poor memory,

so much time wasted trying to figure out where I've been,

where I'm going. directionless day...again.

what I fill my day with, who knows, I don't- do you?

one productive thing accomplished in a day,

is an accomplishment for me. so sad.

I never do what it is I really want to do,

guilt tells me I should be a certain way.

normal, like everyone else- job: check. family: check. 
whatever the hell normal people do: check.

it's not me. no.

strange. slow? something's missing upstairs...a screw lose.

when the day is over, when most people are sleeping, I feel calm.

I can't remember my day, as if it mattered anyway.

now, without the days guilt driving me to accomplish, I relax.  

pressure never pushed me anywhere, but against the flow.

why can't the days be like nights? free, safe.

no ridicule, no blame. freedom. to sit, to read, to write.

in the stillness I am free. 
imagination wildly dancing in the silent night,

clear mind, energetically I dream. creativity sparks.

sleep? I am tired, but oh the freedom,

while you are sleeping.

and to think of starting another day,

if only I could stop it.

but no, I'll sleep before the sun comes up,

but not until then.

I'll ride the night til death comes.

For I die every day I wake up.