Mental Health Daze
Mental health days.
Aren’t days off.
Just like a construction worker.
Wears his helmet in his sleep.
Mental health days.
Don’t come easy.
Hurts as they dig around.
But the root exists everywhere in every dimension.
Like a blueberry.
Well rounded.
We eat it.
It’s just calories in a haze now.
Mental health days don’t really exist.
They get eaten into nothingness.
And they hurt.
Like everything I’ve done so far.
Mental health days.
Are whispery, and challenging.
Navigating around them.
Like I’m in a construction zone.
Mental health days.
Are just like empty calories.
We count them but it means nothing.
Floating around ideas.
They aren’t days off.
I eat them and they hurt.
The root exists in every dimension.
I counted them all.
The construction zone stays put.
Even when it rains and no one is working.
It continues on.
They aren’t days off.
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