Kari Johnson | Creative Writing Student
You are always there for me—
Quietly gliding past the kitchen,
Through the hall and into my bedroom.
It hits me like the sound of a train at 5 am,
Sharp and soft all at once.
I wake up to your bitterness,
But I won’t ever take it personally.
Dark as the world with my eyes closed,
Yet you found a way to open them
Like the sudden pull of a blind cord.
Strong as my objections to this Monday morning
While every morning reminding me
How weak I am without you.