Sundays

I don’t know what it is about Sundays

Im good all week or at least some days

But then comes Sunday, and that heartless fire

Got me calling you a liar

Got me taking deep breathes trying to focus

Unless I say a word you wouldn’t notice

My everything is a mess

Fighting demons – try not to digress

My lungs cant hold the air I need

Blood too thick wont let me bleed

Every attempt to drain myself, failed

Every Sunday like clockwork I’m jailed

As if my body is trying to tell me

Something I don’t know, I plea

For years I’ve nurtured you but please

Im getting older and I cant breathe

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