poem of the day 04.20.09

one of those days

where the nightmares come
with a bill of sale
and the mattress feels like concrete
where the morning sun has stripped
all beauty from the world
and life is gray
where the hangover feels worse
than the last one
and you wonder how much more
can the body take
where everyone on the morning train
looks dead
acts dead
and friends feel like enemies
where there is no love
except that wanting to murder you
where you wonder
how much longer can you go on
with the world
before you burn into a fine ash
or go stale
if you’ve gone stale
where one kind face could maybe
save you
but you know that face will
never come
where all the food tastes bland
and the drink is dull
and conversation feels like war
where the clock starts mocking you
atop a mute television
with a dying screen
and the next hour feels like
water dropping slowly from
a broken faucet
where the idea of the next day
feels like a new kind of hell
where you go to bed feeling your heart
ready to explode in your chest
and the panic settling into your soul
where your eyes are afraid to close
where you can’t stand the images in your head
and the shadows on the wall make hell hounds
angling to swallow you whole
where you are having one of those days
where death feels like a respite from thought
and you pray the buddhists are wrong
one of those kinds of days
that lasts a psychotic’s eternity

tell me,
have you ever had a day
like that too?