Sometimes it's hard to find motivation for even the simplest things,
like lifting my hand to write,
my pen feels so heavy,
like dragging a metal tube over thin dead trees,
the dark blood pouring from my hand
mixes with my tears as they fall to the page,
the blurry letters cry out but I don't recognize them anymore,
so I lay on the floor and try to decide what to do next,
maybe i'll just sleep here,
maybe sleep is whats best.