On Dread

Wake up, 8:15 on the alarm clock
Shades are drawn
Room is dark
The only noise is that fan,
Constantly blowing

A feeling catches in the throat
The first of the day
The harshest, too, we hope
But perhaps we're mistaken
Yesterday did not provide the soul
With any aesthetic charm
On the contrary, it was a messy battle
Today will most likely be the same

Turn over
Can't face it
Back to sleep

But we've had this feeling before,
Haven't we?
And somehow once we got over dreading,
We landed something good.