There is a difference between enjoying daylight
and simply being thankful it’s not dark.
But all too soon, the sky has feasted on the sun
and it feels as though its dinner came early.
How did the night creep up like this?
And now, even the shallowest darkness
feels like the deepest black hole;
too soon there is only darkness,
an oppressive emptiness,
a silence that sounds like a eulogy.

I’m tired.
I am so very tired.
Not from a lack of sleep
or due to a grueling exercise regimen.
I am collapsing under this armor.
My shield has grown too heavy for these arms.
I have swung this sword one too many times;
and as I weaken, my demons seem to get stronger.
There is scant energy left to shoulder
the weight of things my mind refuses to carry.

I am become a beehive.
The buzzing, so all consuming,
it bullies rational thoughts into silence.
I am trembling with movement under my skin,
the bees frantically crawling into all my empty space,
restless and eager to break free.
There is nothing but static.
I’m going to lose to such a small thing.
I’m going to break; I’m going to die.
I’m going to crack
open, I’m going to spill gooey-sticky out of my myself.
And it will not be sweet.
My honeycomb will be worthless,
nothing but a burdensome mess.