As the morning sun glistens and the early birds’ harmonious chirps fill the air,
I pull the bed cover over my pallid face, dreading leaving my lair.
As the kettle hoots and the phone vibrates, punctuating a busy day ahead,
I try to remain fearless, only succumbing to the voices in my head.
As the subway passengers scurry, and as the train times echo from the loudspeaker,
I begin to feel claustrophobic, my body feeling weaker.
As my colleagues burst with pride while sharing their recent promotions,
I eat my lunch in solitude, remembering that I was a failure in motion.
As parents rush through their groceries, with toddlers intertwined around their legs,
I leave the store believing that my hunger would be eased with just eggs.
As the emptiness in the house resonates, and the silence becomes deafening,
I begin to weep, allowing loneliness to stun me like lightening.
As the nighttime wind breezes in, and as the shooting stars increase,
I slip my fragile self into bed, praying that tomorrow will greet me with peace.
As my body loosens to sleep, and as my mind dozes off from reality,
I dream of the day when I will have conquered the ghosts of depression and anxiety.