There are times when I embrace exhaustion as my lost love.
His indifference
His frigid kiss.
We once again retreat
into restful
Silence.
There I revive my eyes with new visions.
Switch off the white noise.
I feel new; less sunken
By the weight of all the
Politics of this self.
Oftentimes I fool myself,
I make promises
to stop short of
empty.
Futile,
I am blue garnets.
The steps to this dance
were
written
By
the
Stars.
I am a hard worker, sometimes to the point of exhaustion. It's the only time I rest, when I have no other option.