Kai
The sunrise met my eyes at 8:25am
5 minutes before my alarm;
5 extra minutes I didn’t ask for.
Sometimes my cat seems to know when the sad is coming.
He rose up from his slumber and lifted himself up into a tall stretch-
all 4 legs trembling-
and stumbled across my blanket.
His purr rang low,
I could feel my ear drums vibrate as he shoved his soft head into my face for tiny kisses
before collapsing hard with his back against my chest.
Just like that he’s out
and his little snores fill me with warmth.
The pressure against me is the perfect weighted blanket I never ordered.
My emotions begin to regulate,
I start to plan my day,
and my alarm starts blaring.
I cover my sweet boy with my blanket-
giggling because they are the same shade of gray.
There’s a deep ache in my hips as my legs swing out to the side
but the cold wood floor distracts me as I lower my feet down to touch it.
It almost feels therapeutic as I take slow sleepy steps across the apartment;
A hot shower and fresh towels are calling my name
and without even needing to unscrew the cap, the scent of my lavender body wash is already flooding my senses.
Each droplet of scorching water feels the way a cartoon sizzle sounds as they hit my skin-
like being pelted with tiny hot rocks-
and my muscles melt beneath it.
Mac Miller plays.
As my soap lathers I begin to think back to those extra 5 minutes
and how if they didn’t happen the sequence of my morning would be entirely different. “Ooh I been a fool that’s what human beings do keep your eyes on the sky never glued to your shoes” has a deeper meaning,
and I roll my eyes.
Being an optimist is hard when you have crippling depression.
When showers get deep I know it’s time to get out.
My mind wanders through thoughts that there couldn’t have been anything special about since I can’t recall them.
My fingertips search for the pile of plush-like terry cloth that is the balled up towel on the lid of the toilet.
Damp and shivering,
with a towel wrapped around my waist,
I open the bathroom door.
Crisp air dances across my chest
and I can feel all my little hairs stand up.
This is my favorite time to take a slow deep breath-
standing in the humid closet sized space
with a draft-like breeze creeping in,
alternating between hot and cold in my nose,
taking in the smells of soap and hair products as I begin to work it through my curls.
My partner wakes up as I walk back into the room and open the draw of our mid-century dresser.
She stretches and smiles up at me and suddenly my cold skin feels tingly
and I can feel the color in my cheeks grow brighter.
Her little morning laugh tickles my brain as I pull on my sweatpants
and I trip over the elastic ankle.
Itching to be in a better mood,
My SAD lamp is to the rescue-
10,000 luxe to the face
better than the fattest blunt you’ve ever rolled.
Okay,
maybe that’s a stretch.
Once more I hit shuffle on my Spotify.
The intro to Good News takes its rightful place in what would have been the silence of an early Fairmount morning.
Maybe that extra 5 minutes was something I didn’t know I needed.
(draft one in a potential “mornings” series)
healed two weeks
healed 1+ year
the rest of my day
Kai is a 27 year old queer and neurodivergent artist who’s lived in Philadelphia for 9 years. They work in many mediums of art including tattooing, illustrating, and creative writing. Most recently they’ve been slowly teaching themself to wire wrap and wood burn. Check them out on Instagram at @bagelboii.png
