When i wake

Every morning is a risk, the sun scorning my tardiness to her day, so she beats down when i work under her gaze. The pit in my stomach tells me every step is a chance for things to go awry. Instead I let my brain be empty and fill my stomach with life. I argue with the future, when i risk my gifts, her old friend bickers too. I'm glad I woke up, I'm saddened it was not sooner i chose to run towards the unknown, but then i did have something to lose, is it a risk if i've nothing other to choose.