In Morning

My eyes are pillowed,
Tired signs of sleeplessness,
Not giving up their state of slumber and comfort.

Waking up and shuffling to the kitchen with my blanket wrapped around me like some kind of monk,
My hands gripping the edges, 

curled inward, 

and pulling it down tight over the back of my neck.

Closed in.

Keeping the warmth of my bed, my sleep, my comfort,

my willingness to give up,

and feel the cold.

Reviews

[NA]

Sounds like me in a state of depression...great read :)