I am awake, so tired
reaching for the alarm
I have overslept
with a shrug I continue
rising to the day
ignoring the birds
forgetting the feel of sunshine
Just.  So.  Tired.
As though a drag has been
attached to my feet
to my very mind
useless, less than useless
yet ever present
I don't make coffee anymore
it never helps
nothing helps
nothing except the sweet release
of sleep.
But I can't always sleep
I must live, must walk about
even if I am only a zombie.
I skip breakfast
no longer hungry for food
or anything else for that matter
I dress in the usual
slacks and button down shirt
trouser socks and loafers
What a boring look
but boring is the new business
and we can't all be like Michael Douglas
from Wall Street
Just.  So.  Tired.
My days drag on, one after another
until the only identifier
is the date at the top of my emails
I don't care if it's Monday or Friday
what do I have to look forward to?
Nothing, that's what.
Nothing
and sleep.
I can't wait to go back to sleep.
By the time I punch out
it's all I'm thinking about.
I'm not concerned for my empty stomach
or that I missed lunch
and I probably won't eat dinner.
I didn't shop for groceries
so I'm not even sure if there's something to eat
and quite frankly, I just don't care
I just want to sleep.
Because when I sleep, I dream
and while not all of them are good
every once in a while
I have a dream that fills me
fulfills me
reminds me that I had other kinds of dreams
once.
Sometimes these little dreams motivate me
and I'll remember to shower
to eat
to buy new shoes
sometimes these dreams break through the fog
and I live for those moments.
So fleeting, so rare
Sigh
Just.  So.  Tired.

Oh succulent mushrooms
how I do love you!
Such a little hafling I am
eating my mushrooms
as though I too had hairy feet
Why anyone would you think
that you smell or taste like death
is beyond me
For in my experience
what tastes like death
often has that in its happening
meat cut up by the butcher's knife
The essence of the smell
and the best of all its scents, to be sure
I have smelled death, and the dead
And not just those perfumed in parlors
covered in the sweet-smelling powders
That is not death, it is a lie
death smells like shame and fear
of things that happened which I cannot imagine
death does not smell like earth
it never smells like life
mushrooms are of the dirt
and scent as such and more
of loam and forests and creatures alive
it smells like childhood and mud
mushrooms are not like death at all
death roams the light, taking and giving
with impunity
mushrooms are things of the dark
growing in the dampness of life
like little umbrellas against the world.

It only takes once
just one time
to change the course of history
one moment
which alters everything
Just one breath
a word, a whisper
a certain kind of persistence
And then all the horrors
of the past
forgotten

I've been a fool
and I've been blind
ignoring the ground
beneath my feet
or the sun in my eyes
thinking to stride
proud and tall
from start to finish
as though confidence
were all that mattered

Faithless pride
displayed but not believed
a thin facade
which I hid behind
why show the world your face
when they only call you ugly?
I'm ****** if I do
and ****** if I don't
why do they care so much anyway?

Just leave me alone
it was my decision to hide
to run away
dragging along my pride
as if it alone could save me
sometimes my stupidity
is amazing

No one is an island
because we're all drowned
drifting along
like lumps of wood
drenched to the bone
with emotions and feelings
wrapped up in our minds
and choked with a false sense of reality
****** with too much pride

I should stop
take some time to listen
to hear what I say
and realize what that means
I didn't before
I won't now
why bother
I spend so much time analyzing
trying to say the right things
to be true to me
while placating the world
and nothing ever really works

I'll always be ****** if I do
and ****** if I don't.