Routine - A poem

Everyday,

just

the

same.

Waking up.

Trying to eat.

Studying.

Sleeping.

Then, repeat.

Repeating,

consistently,

over

and over.

No escape

from this loop.

But, wait.

What?

Waking up.

Trying to eat.

Studying.

... Sleeping?

Nighttime, of course.

Bedtime? Not so sure.

Lying in bed, yes.

But dreaming? I think not.

The only moment of the day

when everything changes.

But... Why?

Why does this have to change?

I don't want this.

I want to sleep.

I want my routine.

Waking up.

Trying to eat.

Studying.

Night.

All these thought flourish

from the depths

of this broken heart.

What is it going to be

this time?

The present,

future,

or past?

Stress

or pain?

Nostalgia

or sorrow?

Can't this wait

till tomorrow?

Waking up.

Trying to eat.

Studying.

Hell.

This is the real hell.

Not the routine,

but these nights.

I can't stop thinking,

my brain hurts,

tears keep flowing,

my chest is being struck.

Let this go.

Let this go.

Let this go.

Let me go.

But it's

morning again.

Waking up.

Wishing to

keep sleeping

forever.

Trying to eat.

Smiling,

no one can see

the truth.

Studying.

The exercises.

Do math, history,

literature, anything.

Sleeping.

Not again.

—WingFighter

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