I wake up Hungover, Not from booze, but medication. It’s the temazepam, The quetiapine, And the mirtazapine. The only combo that gets me some shuteye Each and every night, But it leaves me feeling... Well, maybe not feeling. The cocktail of medication Leaves me numb. But my reluctant eyes were as open As my lips When I had nothing to say. By noon I can open my eyes, But I’m still tired, And so hungry. I grab a snack, And lay down for a nap. I don’t even eat, Just pass out. Three hours later I awaken To my father coming home. I’m discombobulated, Like a newborn likely feels, But I feel more human Than I did this morning. I get my computer, Look at my poetry. I do not feel inspired So I just read some old stuff: Judging it, Rewriting it, Editing it, Just trying to make it “right.” Why can’t I be “right?” I turn on some tunes To avoid going down that rabbit hole. It doesn’t work. I dive in the rabbit hole, And I can’t stop wondering, Why my day is spent coping with life, Instead of enjoying it. I don’t want to just survive. I want to thrive. I want to live. I want to experience Everything twice. I have to work on that.