Same Old Sunrise

 

 

Same Old Sunrise

 

it ripples this watery photograph

so thin I can feel the other side

yet I drown I lose faith

I pour myself into a paper cup

too heavy to hold so I burst I fall into the crevices

of this still born life this non-sterile guide

to being who we are how we feel

in peaks and valleys and hidden rivers

while a mountain of imperfections

stays seated on my skull

and I cannot untangle the riot of whys

in the strands of my hair

so I drink down the what ifs

and I choke on tomorrow

and the same old sunrise

and I take a deep breath

and I enjoy the scenery