It’ll be There

The mornings come naturally now.

I get up and face the hope.

My sleeping bliss letting me forget.

I hold on to that bliss,

at moments I wish I didn’t,

at points I wish it wasn’t there.

Yet somehow I always wake,

with it at my side.

I hate how it fades.

I hate how that feels.

I hate how it disappears.

I hate it when it leaves me,

to make me face whats not there.

Though sometimes what I hate the most,

is at night when I fall asleep,

because I know it will be back as soon as I wake.


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