Analysis of Mental Illness in the Morning
Just woke up, glued to the sticky sheets of my bed. Pain surging through joints from elbows to arms. Mouth is dry, head is dizzy, can’t find a point to focus on. Reach out. Water. Empty. Dry. Thoughts are gone and running wild, sucked into my mind. Wondering why, why am I rummaging through stale memories, through past “me”s, through hateful things? What for? Get up you damn lump of meat, get up you sickening freak, get out and move and do something worth doing, anything better than this self-screwing you’re so used to. Willpower and freedom, all seem a distant, half-baked joke as I lie here stuck between the bed and the wall. Go out now? Hah. I can’t even pick up a book. Fuck. How many hours has it been? Light and dark swap and swap again and I don’t need a clock to know time’s flashed by at an eternal crawl. The incessant growling of the gut becomes a rhythm with unknown consequence, becomes meaningless, drowning in the roaring sea of conflicted feelings, thoughts crashing into thoughts, common sense and logic strayed and finally lost. And I am a shattered rock, broken by the waves, embedded in the muck, washed up by the shore. And stuck. Still today as I was yesterday. Still fucked. Still waiting for the raging waves to drag me out to sea again, to beat me up again. Yes, to beat me, but up is up, and better beaten up than down, better two feet than my face on the ground. I’ll stand up in the end. I’ll stand up because I can.
Scheme | A |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1111101011111101111111111110110111011110101111010110111100111110011100111110111111111111110011101011011010101111011111001011010111111110101001111111101101111010111101101010111011111111010100101010101010101100011001000101101010110011101010101001011010110101010001111010110111110111101010111111101111101111111110101011110111111011110011110111 |
Characters | 1,468 |
Words | 270 |
Sentences | 27 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 1 |
Lines Amount | 1 |
Letters per line (avg) | 1,119 |
Words per line (avg) | 270 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 1,119 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 270 |
About this poem
Spoiler Alert: Twist ending. Yeah I know it’s sudden, but that’s how it happens in life sometimes. Not everything human transitions smoothly and sensibly.
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"Mental Illness in the Morning" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/113049/mental-illness-in-the-morning>.
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