Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
chris 5d
I am ready to write pensive, tired prose
I am ready to wilt like a petal, dying rose
My laptop is dying as I watch the horizon
My body is lying as my breath is sighing
A million moments all wrapped up for me
The wine in my glass has drunk me to sleep
Leone Lamp Jun 2
Y'know that feeling?
When your body is tired
and your brain is too
Not sleepy
Although you'd probably be out
Quicker than a toddler at nap time
If you had to lay on the cot
No, not sleepy,
Exhausted.
Drained.
Tapped out.
All the coffee in the world
Wouldn't stop those lids
From drooping
Even sitting, resting,
Takes energy
Energy that is
All but washed up
Running on empty
And you know
That you've got to wake up tomorrow
And do it all again.
I'm too tired to rhyme.

~06/02/2021
Dark Dream May 12
I hit the wall
Away from this
Mental frontage
Where is my
Fortitude
I dig
And I labor
For what
The same results?
No!
It changes
So slowly
Excruciating
But it’s there
Some movement
Days might
Trek back
I weep
And produce
Different
Tracks
Will it end?
Always asking
That question
Unknown future
Seems bleak
I need the
~ hope
A new spark-fire
Resuscitate
Rejuvenate
A tiny ember
To begin again
There is much about you to remember
Am terrified I might forget
To me appears you already have
Realization that makes me upset

Nothing to stop image from fading
From brain a bit more each day
Picture your face so clearly now
Know time will steal it away

Writing all our memories
The best way to ensure
In some way I'll preserve you forever
The perfect specimens we were

You do not care
Freeze precious snapshots
Because to you they did not matter
If love was a delicate vase
You would purposefully topple it simply to see shatter

Sit down to rest tired feet
Exhausted from leading around in laps
Do not know you're giving me the runaround
You set fire to all the maps
You can repair something broken but you will always have to see the cracks where you glued the pieces back together as long as you live
I am.
I am a cold, crisp autumn field.
I am a plush scarf in the breeze,
I am omnipresent, and yet never near.
I am a crackling fire in a winter freeze.
I am crumbling, cold, and free.
I am encumbered by the slush and snow.
I am waiting toe-to-toe.
You have seen me,
slouched, burdened, fatigued by the stress of the day,
waiting in the back of the bus bay.
I am all, and I am more.
https://www.instagram.com/wutheringsbronte/
Kitten Yvad Mar 15
this blue
cloud sheep squish
and right by my face

like baked goods
and i wonder as
my anxiety rolls over
me in waves


why does the
cloud sheep squish
smell like this?

like the acacia bakery
under my window
it hints at baclavas

the warm ever ambiance fights  back against the cold blue air,
which is heavy,
baby, rolls with
waiting water

...so steam;
baked good steam
like fresh laundry
freshly baked laundry dreams


i touch it by my face
i know its there
use as a face pillow
not to wonder what
its saccharine insides
meant




i fall asleep anxiety
faint idea of
fresh baked pastry scent
blue cloud sheep squish
and peppermint
kaileia Mar 11
there was a girl who was tired from working too much.
she pleaded for the work to stop but it just kept coming.
drowning, drowning she felt like she couldn’t even breathe.
sleep didn’t even help her escape the immense responsibilities she had on her shoulders.

they keep coming.
they keep pummeling her.
they keep asking more of her.

she is spending herself.
she is spent.
she is exhausted.
she needs a break.
she needs to rest.

but rest is elusive.
she can’t stop working.
she has to keep on working and keep on going.
staying strong?
what does that even mean.

strength is all she has.
she relies on herself alone.
spontaneous writing exercise from class
Savonte Mar 7
What a lovely day for cherry pie
And so cherry pie, I’ll make
But first I must gather the cherries  
Then I’ll bake and bake and bake

I'll wear a dress of chiffon
Place a crown of pansies
In my hair
And go outside running, spinning,
Flinging my basket everywhere

I won't hit anyone because
There'll be no one around to hit
(Thank God!)
But sometimes it gets lonely
To have no one to pick with

I'm back at my cottage
Having picked cherries in the sun
But my heart somehow fell weary
Between now and earlier on

I no longer want to bake cherry pie
My energy is gone
But I do have it in me to put on
Tea with berries
From the nightshade plant
I've grown.

I let it brew, I let it sit,
And then I dump it out.
No nightshade tea, no cherry pie
Faulty brain torn between
Tremendous hope and doubt
Savonte Jan 20
I thought that maybe tonight I’d fall asleep
Without having to try,
For my mind is tired,
And my eyes are weak.
I count the hours that pass by.
N Mar 6
There are certain things
I cannot explain such as

This suffocating flesh  
This howling knife
This harmful yearning   
This hungry heart
Next page