I'm so tired.
I rest without sleep.
Where is my peace?
Where do I go for change?
I turn to God but he has better things to do.
I turn to myself but I never hear what I want to hear.
It's over.
I wait.
I consider my future.
I wait some more.
It seems precocious to die already.
I make my bed in embers.
I pace the floor.
I re-live past mistakes.
I take up a sword I can't lift.
I swing against armor that won't give.
All I ever do is cut myself on the blade.
And collapse on the pieces of a porcelain dream.