It is the type of morning when
you step out of bed shivering—
curling your toes away from the
feeling of a cold hard wood floor.
When the dripping of the coffee
pot is not enough to warm you.
When it’s constant, consistent
noise drives you to an insanity;
dripping, dripping, dripping.
It is the type of morning that
seeps into your bones—the type
of morning where the winter chill
has crept into your home like a
thief in the night.
When the outside world looks
too bright, barren. When the
dead branches are scraping through
the air and creating and unsettled feeling;
scraping, scraping, scraping.
It is the type of morning that you take
a shower just to feel warmth running
over your body—the type of morning
that does not require shampoo, rather,
and escape from the cold.
When your memories crave release and
suddenly flood your bedroom,
driving you to listen to sad music and
drown in the emotions of your past;
drowning, drowning, drowning.