real morning - Raghda Rüstem

I’m finally living a real morning
And I've had to slaughter so many dreams to get here

It’s a real morning
in the same way I’d see a vision of a city bird
Hopping through the haze on a clear summer day
It’s here and it's alive
And I had to kill so much to get to it.
I'm having a real morning at last
And oh, it’s a brief eternal epiphany
As the clock hides between the six and the ten
The way it always should’ve been.
It’s a real morning and I may never truly live again after this.
It’s a real morning and my five year old self is still up somewhere,
Waiting for a kiss.
It’s a real morning and I never thought I’d see it like this.
It’s a real morning and every letter on every newspaper
That’s ever been printed
Finally has a purpose.
It’s a real morning and I've got nothing to show for it.
It’s a real morning,
Says the schizophrenic to the nymphomaniac
It’s a real morning,
Says the radio to the chopped-down tree
And at the gaping centre of this black hole of a morning
Sleeps a single blade of grass; three suns and me.

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Raghda Rüstem (born 1998) Kuwait
Source: Ink & Oil on Instagram