I closed my eyes on Saturday,
Woke up Monday midday.
My sleep was filled with pains,
Although awake, some of it remains,
My hands are scarred,
For I hit a wall so hard.
The blisters slowly grow,
For I didn’t want to let go.
My feet hanging off the edge,
For I was holding onto a bridge.
My lungs are dry and quail,
For I did wail.
Now I lay in silence,
Waiting for a friendly presence.
But the wooden door stays closed,
And only the outside light shows.
I cannot see any blue,
The winter azure has no hue.
Its vivid glow hurts my eyes
On this sad day of white skies.