the mornings are the hardest

the mornings are the hardest.
i wake with thoughts of you

weighing on my chest

more heavy than pneumonia.

your name has crawled its way

into every corner of my lungs,

and each morning i must cough it out
into muffled pillows,
with slow deep breathes,
until the chest burns
and eyes water.

One thought on “the mornings are the hardest”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *