and here comes the rain
        
        it
        
drips
        down

the
       petals

leaving the damp contrails of its journey behind

       falling

ever
      so

slowly
        
almost achingly so
    
     it

still
     brings

life
    to

all
    it

touches

and despite the teary-eyed greenery it leaves behind

it makes the whole world

beautiful

I                                          enough.
  don’t                        good
          care              are
                for     you
                    now

Here I sit, trapped in a tunnel

Or maybe I am walking, prodded unkindly by the hands of those behind me,

Pulled forward by the wrists of those who came before,

Stuck in a game of tug-of-war where I hope to resist but I can only give in,

I fear that I will never win,

And the end of this tunnel is so far away,

I do not know if I can make it another day.

So here I sit, trapped in my tunnel.

I am tired.
I am tired of being force-fed lullabies
By those who have forgotten how to sing them.
I feel as though I am immune
But what do I know?

I am tired.
I am tired of those who long to sleep being kept awake
By those who close their eyes easily every night.
They feel as thought they can carry on
But what do they know?

I am tired.
I am tired of wanting to protect those whose eyes are pink with exhaustion
But discovering that I, too, am wiping the sleep from my eyes.
They tell me I lie
But what do they know?

I am tired.
I am tired of saying that I will change,
That I will pull the blanket over those who have had it ripped from their grasp,
That I will sing the lullabies that have gone unsung for far too long,
That I will stay awake while others finally get the chance to sleep.
I tell myself I am wrong
But what do I know?