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Some days

It is difficult just to lift 

My head

From the pillow;

Impossible to raise

My thoughts from the depths

In which they lie.

Some days

The strain to place one foot in front

Of the

Other aches hard;

Pain that sears like fire

Pain that leaves no scar

That you can see.

Some days

Each breath is like the very last

In bursts

Not short nor sweet;

Sucked in without my will

Chest that rises still

Then falls once more.

Some days

There are no words justs sounds that bleed


My hollow eyes;

Some days.


© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020