Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Kiddy_ConnPoems
And I’m tired of being sick. Little light up box and 100 grams of poison should be enough to trick My mind into a bottle. Hope it wont overflow Before I can dump it all Into the sea Maybe it’ll be enough to forget what comes Next The, next Last thread of string holding something to Fall onto my head The, next Expectations of greatness, a 98 or a Breathtaking Performance… My friends are all the happiest they’ve Been. And I feel like I’ve missed that scene Where time stopped. And no one demanded anything, Anymore… I can’t seem to figure out The cure For whatever Black Hole is eating at my, Idyllic, utopia. And maybe it’s my Fault Maybe I expect too much from my Self And resulting is a Tug of war within my soul that apathy always wins. So as to shield from a breakdown Under the strong winds Of realizing that I can’t even bare to try For fear of failing I, try To lighten my own load With, 6 and a half hours on a little light up Box And my stomach full of some toxic Rot I feel as though I’ve not Stopped All day. Even when all I’ve done is sit And scroll Those “sorrows” away. And I wonder why I’m tired. And I question why I’m sick.
0
Apr 21
Apr 21, 2026 at 3:51 PM UTC
Im sick of being tired
And I’m tired of being sick. Little light up box and 100 grams of poison should be enough to trick My mind into a bottle. Hope it wont overflow Before I can dump it all Into the sea Maybe it’ll be enough to forget what comes Next The, next Last thread of string holding something to Fall onto my head The, next Expectations of greatness, a 98 or a Breathtaking Performance… My friends are all the happiest they’ve Been. And I feel like I’ve missed that scene Where time stopped. And no one demanded anything, Anymore… I can’t seem to figure out The cure For whatever Black Hole is eating at my, Idyllic, utopia. And maybe it’s my Fault Maybe I expect too much from my Self And resulting is a Tug of war within my soul that apathy always wins. So as to shield from a breakdown Under the strong winds Of realizing that I can’t even bare to try For fear of failing I, try To lighten my own load With, 6 and a half hours on a little light up Box And my stomach full of some toxic Rot I feel as though I’ve not Stopped All day. Even when all I’ve done is sit And scroll Those “sorrows” away. And I wonder why I’m tired. And I question why I’m sick.
Written by
Kiddy_Conn
18
Apr 21
Apr 21, 2026 at 3:51 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem