Winter Monologue

I wake up at 4 in the afternoon on most January days
Just early enough to catch the last hour of sunlight out of the sky
I didn't even stay up that late this time
But with seasonal depression knitting my eyelashes together with anxiety shaped needles
Now I need a minimum of 12 hours of sleep
Or a least 12 hours of me lying there pretending to

My mornings only exists at 3 a.m. under an umbrella of stars
I can hardly see due to the light pollution
Regardless, I will stay up for hours listening to spoken word poetry and music that makes me cry
Cause at least feeling the loneliest heartbreak is feeling something

It's like I'm standing in front of the ocean of happiness
But I never learned how to swim under the circumstances of a hurricane

I miss the days when I would burn the midnight oils writing my heart out
Now I just stay up to watch the city fall silent
Not a single soul stirring in their sheets
Excluding those like me who are trying to avoid falling asleep in a bed that is always empty
Even with them lying in it

I stare longingly at the stack of unfinished notebooks
Worrying that they are a reflection of my own unfinished narrative
They stare back at me
Screaming at me to do something
Begging me to live

But I am tired
I am so tired of almost
Almost getting out of bed
Almost trusting people to love me
Almost creating something beautiful
So tired of almost feeling anything besides apathy, hunger, and the urge to scream

Because my depression is a weighted blanket
Keeping me comfortable and contained
I know that once spring rolls around the feeling of it on my chest won't be as heavy
And I'll be able to drag myself from my mattress
Ripping my body away from my pillow that muffles the sounds of my sobs
But until then it is still 3 a.m. and it's the coldest time of the year