I'm so tired of being tired.
Just let me go to sleep, please.
I've been working
working
working
My whole ******* life,
And for what?
For some stupid praise?
A degree - the same as everyone else that didn't **** themselves over this and instead lived out their lives?

Don't you know,
I don't envision myself as anything in the future.
I get a little sad when I hear people talk about theirs, because I see that they're practically already there.
In their mind, their heart.
They've got that something, keeping me going.

What do I have?
Nothing.
I am nothing.
I don't dream,
Because I don't sleep.
And because I don't sleep,
I am tired.

I am tired.
I am so ******* tired.
And I'm too old to get tucked in by my mom with a bedtime story,
So here I am, writing bedtime poetry and biology notes.

(It all really doesn't matter in the end.)