Get Up

6:30
My alarm goes off but I don’t want to get out of bed because no sleep came
And I had just laid in bed thinking about how much pain
Is going to show up and I wait for it to happen
Hoping today could be different
Get up.

I stumble out and get dressed, throwing on some jeans and a shirt
Hoping today that getting up wouldn’t hurt
That my ribs wouldn’t feel like they’re concaving into my lungs
Making it burn and I want to breathe but my breath will use my ribs as rungs
Like my body is slowly melting into the floor
Get up

I get to my third class and already my body aches from invisible cuts and scrapes
And I just can’t wait to get out of this place and I have to stand up to sing
And my vocal cords feel like they’re seizing up and I don’t want to bе here
Can’t you see that when you look at mе?
But I sit there in singing posture, hoping that maybe he won’t tell me I have to
Get up

I manage to get to lunch and I pretend I’m alright so my friends don’t worry about me
Because why would you want people worrying about you when you’re ‘fine’
I go get my food, though I don’t wanna eat
Because I like the feeling of the hunger pangs sometimes as I remind myself I need to eat less anyway
I laugh, smile, pretend everything is ok while I’m holding my tears away and soon the bell rings and I have to
Get up

I get home.
I’m tired and sore and mentally exhausted
I lay down.
3:30.
I still have chores, and homework and a mountain of things I have to do that bog me down
And I can’t help but look at the ceiling and frown
At myself for laying down in the first place.
And I say that same phrase I've been repeating in my head about 100 times now.
Get up

Some days, it’s so hard to get up.
On those days, I pray I can go home to my mom
I haven’t seen her in so long
Each day feels like a year and I want to go home
I wish I was five again just sitting in her lap
because she understand that some days you just can’t
Get up.
She understands that some days you just need to
Lay down.
And that’s what I’ve wanted for years.