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
Behind
My hollow eyes;
Some days.
© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020
