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To me you’re the sun. Now I know that sounds fun. But it’s not in the way that you’d think. Like waking up to your rays, With them blinding my gaze,
Sleep muffles me, it’s like thinking through cotton The air fills with burning gold, the ruddy sky blooming  “Why must I do this?” I think as I hit the snooze button
I know a lot of people who really like sunsets, but I prefer the sunrise. Because to me it is so much more than it's beauty, and the beautiful colors that it pains the skies.
This morning I sat in the back seat of a dying car, music softly bleeding through broken speakers, and I watched the world wake up.
What happened to the days  where I would wake to the sound of rain drops gently kissing the rooftop,  and slowly form my body into a  familiar ball of intertwining arms and legs
Soft pink illuminations trickle through The thread bare membrane of curtains Dribbling light down the windows ledge  
I love the way the sun seeps through the blinds and the warmth dancing on the small wooden surface of my coffee table. I love the smell of homemade coffee and expresso beans in the morning.
Your lips on my forehead Again Again And I’m time-travelling except I don’t know if I’m going To the past or to the future
I may not want to get up in the morning; in fact that seems to happen a lot. I may not want to wake up one day. Even though I should, I may not. But I know that I need to wake up, and be grateful too. When open my eyes,
Morning dawns on the earth, Like a day-to-day rebirth. Rising from slumber once more, An awake much like a chore. Wiping the sleep from your eyes,
Soft blankets hug me in their vice grip. I have no desire to leave my bed; our home. Only one thing can grasp me with her loving little hands and convince me to rise: Lady Grey.
More often than not, I find myself longing to be noticed. When I rise in the morning, One thing that is always on my mind... Is how can I dress today that will make everyone stare?  
Deep inside my veins runs blood and something darker Seeping through my skin and giving off an alluring odor  The pleasant taste of bitterness that encaptures the morning
Every morning It all begins again Wake up with the memories Of yesterday Was it great or did you want it to end? It's all a cycle Everyday is the same Everyday is the same
Monday morning comes again                                              Dreadful As my eyes open, there sits a figure White as snow;                                             A kitten
The low sounds of the blowing wind seeping through my slightly cracked window. The scratching of my dog’s nails outside of my door so I can let him in.
I woke up startled by my dream Lately I've been waking up filled with anxiety again I dont like going back to this Hearing the birds chirp Seeing the light but somehow not being able to grasp it
My eyes are blanketed by a black veil that hangs in the air I imagine the smell of coffee Iced and tucked away behind the milk in the fridge Later Between sips
The crisp cold wakes me by nipping my nose. The sleepiness leaves me from my head to my toes. I look at the clock and groan so loud. It’s 7 o’clock it’s time to get up now. But instead of readying myself just yet,
I do not wake for the eggs, Nor for coffee, for it is usually the dregs. Rather, I wake up for something much smaller, A little creature that I love to go see for he makes me smile and flush with glee,
One day is a dancing Gypsy all tinkling bengals  and swirling rainbows.   The next is a starving dire wolf icy grey, its bloody teeth bared.   I've heard I am not a land mine,
Sleep deprived, zombie like,as mindless as air and as mechanical as the shifting gears of a manual transmission.Some have a spark in their eye or a bounce in their step;
So lay yourself beside me love, and let's spend these lonely hours as one   Part your sweet lips and invite me in I fell my head begin to spin as slowly, like fresh honey,
what do i think upon waking, upon the first blink of my eyes? every night, i try to remind myself to remember my thoughts when i rise.   and every morning my phone alarm rings,
The rush and slack we make   Constructing our own quake. The grouch cry to the dawn   skeptick as fate's own pawn The frill to our own will   To fill in all the thrill   Detainee Nominee
"Beep,beep." The headache starts.
do you ry at 3 in the mornin worryin bout me roamin
My feet hit the floor early in the day And I creep towards the curtains to put the darkness at bay. The cold hardwood makes my toes curl,  But what do you expect from a cold natured girl?
The rays of the world As warm as they may be  The light of life is a relief    The symphony of the chorus  Soothes the tympanum of dawn  The melody awakens me   
Pillows of cotton settle drifting like ghosts masking the view of towering stone hair curling in the palpable air drooping eyelids, heavy breath heels on concrete clicking in step
You make me look forward to the morning. That crystalline smile like a sunrise resting against still waters. I get lost in your calm and collarbone kisses seep down into my soul like dawn dew.
The dog lazily snores on From her perch upon my bed My radio blasts a noisy song Yet she doesn't raise her head . I move to wake my sister She groans into her pillow
Walking through a forest of lighter strawberry hues a sign pops down besides me: 'Wake-Up' or hit 'Snooze'?   Ten more minutes, Please! I'll wake up when the clock screams:
Sunday mornings are my favorite, always. There was no rush, and I got to spend my time in your corner, exploring the dark that creates your light. We move slow, savoring each moment until we go.
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