Every morning, I lie with my eyes closed, waiting to be slapped awake and dragged out of bed by responsibility. As I become more aware of my chest rising and falling and the weight of my legs, my arms, my torso, I wonder if I can do it today.

The sun filters through my window and makes me want to curse. If I could just send you back over the horizon, tie you down, maybe I could find the peace I need? Maybe I could sleep for days on end? Maybe…

I pop an eye open and see pink stretch across the sky in the window beside my bed. Maybe, if not a few more hours than a few more minutes?

I lie within the purgatory of life and dreams and battle with my conscience. Could we please, for one day, just pretend the world doesn’t exist? Could we live on our own terms? But my ‘own terms’ are not going to put food in the table. My ‘own terms’ are not going to heat my home and buy me a nice, new jacket for Winter. And my ‘own terms’ couldn’t give a damn about stability. In short, I had to sell my ‘terms’ and take the pittance to society for my bread and water. But one day, I’ll take them back.

One day, when I can no longer walk and run as I please, when my hair is grey and limp and time has chiselled wrinkles and painted sun spots on my skin, I’ll live on my own terms.

For now, reality wins so I deal with the defeat by watching the sunrise… on my own terms.


(Artwork by Yaoyao Ma Van As)
© The Innocent Lyricist