I dread the morning, but not because it’s Monday

An empty temerity,

I’m lost, despite the voice.

Insistent battles behind the words,

the darkness plagues my days.

 

I dread tomorrow,

I fear the day.

A desperate rage to combat fear,

of losing, winning or making sense.

 

They hate you,

and they smile.

I hate me,

and I smile back.

 

The voices, eyes and whispers,

they challenge me, beat me, move me.

Trap me in my office cage,

and lose me in the silence.

 

I don’t want this.