Poetry

Morning on Chlozapine

The morning air
meets me as I open my
stuffy eyes and stare
into a new day;
hours of time unravelled
like an onion
ahead of me.
I blink painfully and crawl
out of bed, cowering beneath
the sheets, clinging
onto the carpet with my toes
feeling them
stretch and crack
like walnuts- the drugs
make my bones creak
and muddy my brain
like oil in water I am
sluggish; my thoughts
Cannot crystallise,
my mind morphs and
heaves attempting
to break out of its sedation.
It will take hours,
and up until then
light and sound are assaults-
I breathe carefully,
move experimentally

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