What my mornings look like off meds

           morning after morning 

the earth buffers in wait 

           for the rising of the sun 

my waking exhale 

           is really a lamentation

as I turn to water the lily plant, 

           the snake plant & the cactus

it is a miracle they’re still green 

           sprouting new leaves and spikes

my intentions as delicate as the 

           irony that hides its crooked hands

sometimes the body of water 

           is not a body of water

it is the miracle 

           of being almost consumed

often I have wandered into my kitchen 

           observing the lily plant’s habit of playing comatose

despite my daily waterings

           at the rising of the sun

I fingered at the edge of the chewed off plant

           endlessly 

my heart is tender 

           my mouth is not

I have missed many miracles of my own mornings

           just like the dishonest plant 

sprouting new and green leaves 

           when my hand is no longer heavy 

the watering can abandoned 

the risperidone worn off