good and bad days

by mickharris

on bad days i watch the monitor sway like a tree branch in wind
and try not to push out of my skin
on good ones i laugh
on bad ones i laugh too, but until i cry
and my heartbeat takes longer to slow in my chest

on bad days i’m afraid to go home
to try and sleep
to stay awake
on good days i don’t notice the passage of one state
from another
on bad days i wish i had before, when it was better
and i feel ungrateful

i describe this feeling as a big boiling monster drawn like a kid
scribbles for edges
that has tides
eager
lapping
crashing
over everything else i feel
and the small part, the one that knows it will be okay, is often underneath
standing as tall as it can
reminding me in pauses between waves that it’s there
but that more waves are coming

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