Eye Hate Mondays

Mondays are the days that nobody warned me about

The days that drag on with seemingly not an end in sight

Not scary or shocking like a nightmare

But like the haunting eeriness of a Walking Dead marathon

Nothing seems plausible and everything seems impossible

Mondays are the bitter haggard days of the week

That seem to have lost the naïveté that Fridays sometimes carry

And utterly devoid of any of the promises that the weekends leave with 

Instead the day is all jagged edges, tired sighs

and painful eyes

And the only thing that gets me through a never ending Monday

And is the only thing that separates the long day from the long night…

Is that I can finally close my fucking eyes 

 

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