maybe tomorrow...

maybe tomorrow. maybe tomorrow i'll manage to pull myself out of bed. maybe tomorrow i'll sort through the mountain of clothes that have been slowly piling up in the corner of my room for months. maybe tomorrow i'll be brave enough to look in the mirror, to see the mess i've created. maybe tomorrow i'll shed the feeling of tiredness in my bones. that heavy feeling that doesn't move even after 14 hours of sleep. the feeling that compels me housebound for months and sets my whole life on pause. but that’s just it, it’s not on pause, even when i am, the world around me keeps moving until i realise i'm too far gone to catch up with everyone else. it's overwhelming. so even though I know i'm lying to myself, there's always the possibility of tomorrow, right?