tired

Wasted my young years

I am wasting my life

I know it, yet I cannot seem to stop it. I sit and I feel it slipping away from me. My get up and go has got up and gone and I have no idea how to find it again, or know if indeed it is still out there waiting to be found.

In my thoughts I am a pioneer, I swoop and soar and plan all things which I could do, list all the things I should do, hide from the things I need to do – yet still I lie.
Curled up in a fortress of quilt whenever I can get the chance, if ever I need not to be at work and sometimes when I should be somewhere else – i lie. Hidden behind walls and I lie, in bed waiting, waiting for something unknown.

I am tired

My bones do not want to move today or ever. I do not want to drag my carcass out into the unfriendly world where it has no relevance, no meaning, no joy. I feel guilt for all of the things I am missing out on, feel bad for those I am letting down, constantly but still I cannot seem to force myself out. I dont know what I want but I know it isnt this – I am a waste of life in this state. Not living but simply existing.

The only thing that brings solace is sleep. I feel I could sleep forever and feel happier lost in dreams for life only brings cruelty and sadness.

Please just let me sleep.

 

Reflection of truth

I look tired heΒ says, but means old
A gaze into the rust stained mirror confirms this
Eyes made red with erosion stare back at me
The reflection of another woman, living another life
Skin worn to a light covering, which hangs
From her cheeks, dull and lifeless
An ashen soul emerging through her bones
Threatening to smash the very existence of her being.
She is a stranger, with her greasy hair flecked with chalk
Pinched lips, exhausted from the daily notions of professing wellness
Nails that would claw a man to death yet snap at the very suggestion
A constellation of freckles spread across her nose, strengthening with age
Her sadness reaches out and I press my palm to hers as if we understand each other’s plight
And though we stand together in this moment

It is her eye that allows a tear to form, but not I