She took a stick,
Threw it into the air.
The stick fell.

She picked it up,
Threw it again,
But still, the stick fell.

She felt frustrated,
And desperate.
She felt angry.

She grabbed the stick
Punched it flying into the air,
Higher with all her might.

Then with a split second,
The stick fell,
It broke into half.

Your hands are ink
Staining all that you touch with your singular finger print
We all get lost.
I get lost,
In it's ridges and complexities
Perpetually held in wondrous confusion
You are black coffee
Pumping into all of my veins,
Alive
Like a rush of oxygen to my blood
You are my siren
Luring me to the edge
I see the parts of me you tore apart glistening just below,
But I can't resist
All of your music
Makes my memories of pain
Nothing more than a light breeze
Barely rustling strands of hair
You are a white sun I can't help but stare at
Even as I go blind
While I am a candle
Dull and lifeless
In the presence of your intensity
You are an unruly sea
Your magnitude uneffected
By my timid presence
I love you for all the reasons you hurt me.

How to explain what it feels like,
when your soul is crumbling within,
to watch your possible futures meet eachother during the same night, and know that in order to survive,
you must leave one behind.

When you grow used to my body
will you crave another?
Will your eyes no longer find awe
if I slowly undress
in the curve of my waist,
and will your caress
of my smooth skin
no longer be an instinct
but instead perfunctory
Will the endless nights of passion
be replaced with snores
as your mind
and your body bores
of what is always there
Or will our love run deep,
enough to keep
The interest, the care
With new layers of desire
unfolding
Mutual understanding
The moulding
of a connection and a strength
that runs in us, and round us and through us
so that no matter what comes our way
no other could evoke
a need to stray.

Tired physically.
Tired emotionally.
Tired of *******.
Tired of money.
Tired of ****** drivers.
Tired of ****** people.
Tired of headaches.
Tired of back pains.
Tired of anxiety.
Tired of depression.
But most of all,
I'm just tired of being tired.

My bones have become filled
     to the brim with lead
until each step I take
     is so labored
     I can barely make another.
I am exhausted
     to my very core
And I'm expending
     every ounce of my energy
     simply attempting
     to hold my eyelids up.
I can't anymore, I'm sorry.
I just can't, I'm too tired,
I'm going to sleep now,
that deep, restful sleep
     from which one doesn't awake.