Oh How I Hate Mornings

Blood in my veins has slowed down

Eyelids are extremely heavy

And I have to pinch myself

For them not to fall

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

Annoying yellow walls

Seem to be even brighter

In the morning rays of sunshine

It irritates me and my eyes.

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

I uncontrollably keep scratching

the pink polish off my nails –

-Impatient like never before

Thoughts in my head are broken

Into uneven little pieces

Like a child’s jigsaw puzzle

And it seems impossible

To put them back together.

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

The landscape picture on the wall

reminds me of something

A place from my childhood…

Or maybe not the place itself

But the specific atmosphere

i subconsciously attached to it.

The sound of pens

Scratching the paper brutally

Is getting louder

And so is the ticking

of my impatient watch.

Tick tock,

Tick tock…

The smell of someone else’s coffee

is teasing my throat painfully

Craving for caffeine has reached the point,

When I can’t think about anything else

The silent clock above the wooden door…

Even though I know it doesn’t work

And in this particular room is always 9.35

I still look at it subconsciously.

Tick tock

Tick tock…

 

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When I got letter from You

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It’s 4.30pm in Preston,

Another cloudy but warm Thursday.

It’s 2010 and I’m sat on the floor in the attic.

I take my eyes off the envelope in front of me

and smell the summer breeze.

I can’t bring myself to read it, it’s too hard.

Even gentle waves on the river, I can hear through the open window,

won’t calm me down.

The door slams downstairs and I immediately jump up

and run barefoot. I don’t care that the carpet is still dirty

from the Saturday’s party.

I give Darla a hug , her hair is still wet from the rain

and it leaves a big dark stain on my new silk blouse.

She follows me into the kitchen for a refreshing glass of Dr Pepper

and we both agree to go for a walk –

– it seems like a perfect way of running from my fear,

that’s still lying on that cold attic floor waiting for me to face it.

We walk towards the park and talk about Darla’s new boyfriend

and other trivial things, but I’m struggling to take my mind off the letter.

On the way to the park we nip to the small shop on the corner of Taylor Street

and buy couple of bottles of Corona and a box of Menthol Pall Malls.

I instantly open the packet and light a cigarette

thinking about the show I saw earlier on You Tube.

It was a comedy and the content was rather weak but I remember this guy

claiming that men have a ‘nothing box’ in their brains, and that they can

run into it whenever they want.

At this moment in time I wish I had a ‘nothing box’ in my head.

The sun begins to set and as we take the last sip of, already warm, Corona

we start making our way back home.

It’s almost 7 and I feel restless. As we walk into the house I hear my friends’ excited

voices in the kitchen, but I don’t stop, I run upstairs – suddenly impatient.

I sit on the freezing cold floor and start reading. My hands are shaking and I can hear

Byórk’s ‘Army of Me’ being played in the room downstairs.

And then, just like that, my world falls apart.