She awoke dull and dismal
The clouds mirrored her emotions
The day was hers
but he'd come and ****** it away
Of that, she was sure.
Mustering an energy she didn't have,
she willed herself out of her bed
to leave the comfort of hiding
She doesn't bother with the shades
Sunshine was a stranger to her heart, anyway.
Neglecting the normality of a morn'ng routine
She threw on a sweater to warm her cold soul
and poured her coffee - black - to match.
Ambition does not belong
in the dictionary of her life
Life? Hardly.
She is the walking antonym of motivated
But there is a place
where she feels alive
In a damp, dark, ***** basement
filled with bats, wheels, earth, and glaze.
Wasting the gray day away,
taking refuge in the arts
Wedging, centering, shaping, stop.
Trimming, firing, glazing, stop.
Lost in the process,
lost in her thoughts.
She can breathe again.
She rises to the battle.
He will not win.