Secrets, a poem

Aleathia says:

I rise to early to another headache,
day three and counting.

My body is no longer willing to keep
its bulk nestled warmly between the sheets.

I lace up my sneakers and step out to the brick steps,
the air is crisp, spiderwebs hold dew and empty lifeless carcasses,
the birds sing a morning song I've not listened to in ages.

I walk. It is what I do these days secretly hoping
to shed this extra body I've collected over the years
of emotional hibernation knowing it is as much a fantasy
as the end of this headache.

The sky is pink with clouds
threading a needle back through pillows of orange.

I had forgotten these moments existed.
I had forgotten my love of solitude amongst the chaos.
I had forgotten what it was like to live.

Aleathia Drehmer 2016