Waiting – a poem

My day awaits my first move...

Icy mirrors in the snow reflect
the light crowning the horizon
as time trails its rising hues.

As the sunlit morning emerges
on the night, I foresee my day unravel
as I loosen my twisted bed sheets.

My day awaits my first move.

My insides shake from what I cannot
stop; my dark thoughts descend my vision
shading the dawn of the moment.

Do I dare commit my first step
forward by touching the unwelcoming
wooden landscape beneath my bed?

I lie still and feel my body chained
to my mind’s endless loop of  imagination
for my imminent sickness and pain.

My day awaits my first move.

By Trish, 2008

 
 

Cartoon credit: Trish Hurtubise
 

Hi. I’m Trish, the founder, curator and an editor for Mental Health Talk. You may view all my posts here.

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Comments

  • ford dagenham

    love it trish, was just laying in bed thinking almost the same thing. then i got online and posted a poem of my own.

  • ford dagenham

    also, your pic is perfect for a poem i just wrote, hope you dont mind if i use it. will give you full credit.

    • Trish

      Thank you Ford! I am happy to share my artwork.

      I just checked out your poem and your post of my artwork and it’s so cool to see it come together on someone else’s site: http://hatchbacksonfire.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/sick-bed.html

      Thank you for crediting me.

      I admire your ability to express yourself like you do through your poems.

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