My eyes bleed with exhaustion.

My thoughts are fuzzy like my brain is stuffed with styrofoam.

My body sinks into the ugly carpet floor of my basement.

My mouth tastes sour with the flavor of an unslept soul.

I lie here writing instead of sleeping because it feels like the only thing I can do well, consciously.

My back aches with an elders pain at late seventeen.

I crave the warm embrace of my bed but am too stuck like sap to move.

I'm rambling here in my brain instead of resting my frigid existence.

My thoughts are slow and choppy now with the hesitation of drifty words.

My rusted, chipping ears hear nothing but silence and a distant coo-coo clock.

The chirps of a bird only found in my dark, dusty insanity.

The world weighs upon children such as these in a universe such as this.

I'm just, tired. Tired...

~S.C. Kelley

she was the maker, he was her muse
a creative girl with everything to lose

she colored her canvas with her bleeding heart
she loved him and watched her world fall apart

she got her heart broken but kept a blank face
knowing that there are some mistakes you can't erase

she gave up her art, a lover betrayed
her pure white mind turned a darker shade.