Sometimes, days are a whirlwind,
Of possibilities, exchanges, people's faces.
Silently observing; energy stretched thin,
The sunlight sinks, leaving only traces.
You close your eyes after the day has decided to die down.
The weight of your exhaustion, so heavy, you could drown.
But before you have a chance to embrace the dreams that dangle above your head,
It's another day, and another whirlwind at the foot of your bed.
The tide is pushing
I fight back as best as my aching body allows
But the waves continue to crash
Swirl and smash around my beaten brain
The water wastes my senses
Gravity has lost all meaning
No up, no down, no direction
My body is ready to concede
To be freed to the whims of the waves and the tide
Don't help me. This will not subside.
I am done.
And when I've near lost all sense and sight
And the darkness is creeping, closing in
And when the tide has reached a new found height
And I'm losing, I'm lost, I cannot win
Then, once again, my Salvation is here
He pulls me firmly from the deadly waves
I hold him fast; he subsides my fear
My lifeboat, rescuer, the one who saves
He steers a true course, he makes a new way
A constant path through the blackest of sea
And all of a sudden, night turns to day;
I see clearly the waters around me
They thrash and they thrive, they chop and they churn
But I am above them, safe and secure
With my lifeboat, my guide, I once again learn:
With him I am safe; my Savior makes sure
So I will hold on to the promises you made,
As long as life endures, I know my lifeboat saves.
I am tired with the feeling of being dismissed, criticized as to what I'm going to do next.
I am tired of forcing myself to choke back the tears, hide my barb-wired stained arms behind a long sleeve sweater.
I am tired of fidgeting to keep my sleeves past mid fingers, because my knuckles are swollen and bruised green and purple from yesterday's misdemeanor.
I am tired of insomnia always wanting to be held by me, being woken every 2 hours as if I was tending to a crying baby.
I am tired of running around and around my brain, always overthinking until I go past insane.
I am tired of how my energy stops out of the blue, leaving me nothing but to stare into the wall dazed and confused.
I am tired of making people run away from my presence, love and hurt and leave me until I'm left too sick to keep myself barely on balance.
I am tired of walking with wobbly and scraped knees, my palms are bleeding with skin peeling off, barely able to write more sad poetry.
I am tired of being hurt by everything and everyone, they say my heart is a blessing, but it has cursed my life since the day I was born.
I am tired of the cruel criticism towards me, years upon years of insecure comments that developed into PTSD.
I am tired of having to rely on someone else's heart just to make myself feel worthy and complete, I can't help sharing my entire heart just to get it back again obsolete.
I am tired of the sickness that tells me good morning each day, opening my mouth to cleanse my body of the food from yesterday.
I am tired of looking at my skin in the mirror, as my rib cage becomes more visually clearer.
I am tired of breathing in the oxygen plagued with depression, opening my eyes to a vast blur in my vision.
I am tired of smelling the fear raid out of my body, their eyes watch as I shake and choke on my spit as I drown in the sweat caused by my anxiety.
I am tired of feeling incomplete, my hollow heart filled with thoughts of the night my soul fell to my feet.
I am tired of crying on the bathroom floor alone, shaking with vomit dripping from my mouth whilst trying to type for help on my phone.
I am tired of wanting to be loved and adored, knowing full well they'll leave me when they get bored.
I am tired of scrolling through my phone to fill the space of pleasure, because his name is screamed to me until not my legs, but my brain makes me shake as if I was having a seizure.
I am tired of being vocal about my mental illness, if it only brings me back into a bigger mess.
I am tired of ruining everything I touch, shattering like a fallen sculpture, not being able to fix it much.
I am tired of thinking until I get pissed, screaming with every punch on the wall because I'm alone and won't be missed.
I am tired of dreaming what could have been between him and I, instead I begin to think of different ways to die.
I am tired of seeing my window sill every morning, thinking about how I can just jump from it so I can avoid today's daily dooming.
I am tired of talking without words to speak, instead they're drowned out by wails until everything turns bleak.
I am tired of being told I'm going to be a failure, only because my suicidal thoughts have made me unsure.
I am tired of the pressure for me to do better in school, knowing they are just going to insult me for being an emotionally unstable fool.
I am tired of the tears kissing my cheeks goodnight, only to knock me out with the help of the looming monster that is impossible for me to fight.
I am tired of feeling and being weak and fragile, telling myself I'm strong are only words filled with false hope dripping with vile.
I am tired of the days I feel happy and alive, whilst also telling myself this is temporary and will soon deprive.
I am tired of my mouth being sewn shut as to not mutter a single word, trailed off when it finally unravels to people who refuse to have me heard.
I am tired of the numbness in my body after I break down, realizing the man-made tornado had once again ripped into my lonesome town.
I am tired of being alone and having no friends, because I'm still trying to heal from the knife twisted deep into my spine from the last person that wanted my life to end.
I am tired of keeping myself in captivity, when I know that I can free myself to feel amenity.
I am tired of the bipolarity in my decisions, always asking to be left alone but cry when I'm not given attention.
I am tired of being the family burden, an annoyance who can never do right with flaws that can not be undone.
I am tired of getting tangled into the constant mess I put myself in, they say I keep doing this to myself as I place my problems on my head with a pin.
I am tired of being tied up to the strings, in which exhaustion plays and moves me like a puppet's unescapable fling.
I am tired of being tired all the time, it's becoming so hard to find words that rhyme.
I am tired, I am just so
I am defaulted,
For I seek congruity
Of heinous hums that stifle my scream;
At night when the gloom falls under my pillows,
Crawling beneath to cloister itself around the iridescence
From a light, it never shone
I am defeated
By those shall be bound to defy;
Shall see the hues of tomorrow, the cues of a spectrum merged within itself.
Darkness quaffs down the chaos sleeping on the tip of my tongue,
Attenuating a minute of clarity:
Privy to those whose scream echoes within tangled sheets and stuffed mats:
Screeches, as if a knell,behind the murmur of the room..
i am the insomniac's day dream
but i am tired of carrying your bags, too
i am exhausted from cradling your face, shushing and swaying and singing lullabies
whispering secrets kept out of apathy
deaf ears and blind eyes and scrambled brain - sunny side up at three in the morning
i am so tired that all i want to do is run and jump and yell and ask why things happen the way that they happen
who set all this up and what do they want from me
what are those noiseless sounds that fill a dark room
why did you take my charles bukowski book when you left
fingerless hands paw at the missing pages
but there isn't anything there, not anymore
I know life is chaotic, but this is getting crazy.
Due to fatigue from work, I'm always feeling hazy,
And I'm being made to pull the weight of the lazy.
Not to mention, the babies mom is scazy.
I can't partake in my herbal remedies any longer,
And due to that, the bad nerves are getting stronger.
I don't think that thinking is getting easier,
Now that my life is becoming a tragic crowd pleaser,
I'll ride across the ocean on the head of the Titanic,
And before hitting the iceberg, hit the alarm and cause the panic.
Maybe this time around, I can change how it goes,
Maybe this time around, I can make it rain instead of snow.
Maybe this time around, I can cut the brain to the show,
And show all who oppose me just how low I'm willing to go.
I'm in a staring contest with the sun,
Waiting for what I've seen and been through to be undone,
But mother nature must have some form of a different plan,
Because I feel about as bad as a ran-over tin can.
Nothing works the way it should've been,
And I'm stuck in an endless cycle of sin.
I'm caught between being a warrior in the streets,
And being a producer of life changing beats.
Nothing matters in this world unless it's given meaning,
I haven't fallen since I got up, but I started leaning.
I'm tired, and the concrete bed before me looks cozy,
And I don't know how long it'll be before life tries to dose me,
So with the last bits of consciousness I have left,
I press charges on life for it's
All alone in my sorrow
His stench surrounds me
I try to close my eyes and there he is again
I open my eyes... he's there
No matter what I do he's there
Like cockroaches climbing all over my body
I wanted to sedate myself and lay in bed all day
Moms don't get time off though
The days are long, the work is endless.
I tried to shove food down my throat to fill that deep hole within.
Didn't work, made me nauseous & in pain.
The voice within says...
You deserve to be in pain.
Take it you worthless piece of crap.
I agree, as I do what I'm told.
Vomit on my hands, vomit on my face.
Surely this is the look of a piece of garbage.
I feel better for a split second as I was able to subconsciously vomit my feelings.
I wish I could vomit the memories that haunt me.
I wish I could suffocate my feelings like the thoughts suffocate me.
In this moment I give up.
I'm tired of working hard to be better.
People don't want the real me.
They want the me that they want me to be.
My authentic self isn't good enough.
I drink my sorrow away.
For a moment I'm able to escape my pain.
I feel high...
Enjoy the moment, for you need to get back to battle very soon.
Tonight I sit lackadaisical
After a week of the last routine
I think back to the start on the mall
The roaring chants of the scene
Has it been a decade
Or only a month
How much longer do we have to go
As shovel by spade
Both millions of times and once
We find the final, finishing blow
Tonight I sit, exhausted
Just thinking about what comes next
Because one senior week, I've lost it
And, politically, I don't have a plan for the rest
Then I think of that day in D.C.
Shouting "This is what democracy looks like!"
Pink pussy hats as far as eyes could see
And millions worldwide trying to get things right
I sit in this booth, so fucking worn out
Just knowing that we've still just begun
I chastise myself for being inactive
It, and sometimes I just want to run
But then I see comics speak on air
And I see some postcards in a store
And I feel like we can really get there
If we keep at it a little more