I get up for a drink of water,
exhaustedly counting the hours
left for me to sleep, to wake,
to return to the same day I’ve lived
already, several times yesterday,
and the day before.

But hopeful still, this day will be
different. This day will be the one
tossing monotonous to the wind,
rolling down the river of routine,
to the very day I’ve dreamed about,
the day I’ve worked to find. Time

has eluded this moment, camouflaged
its essence in childish dreams,
lost goals, challenges, and obstacles,
though still I stand, chin up, facing dawn
while it taunts me, sleepless but wanting,
fearful, yet prickling every sense

beneath my skin, pink and flushed—
Anticipation; be...

Please subscribe to keep reading.