So not a Poem

Every day I fight,
to fend off the bitter end.
Every night a struggle
so as not to take up the fight.
Some days are hard to start,
as hard as they are to finish.
When each to each
other feels
just like dying.

And the only way
i can do this
365 to
366 days a year,
is by loving someone
in the evening
and at dawn.
Then,
the rest of these clean new days
belong to me.
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thank you steph,
and i'm sorry.