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Em MacKenzie Nov 2024
I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I already pulled at my hair.
“It’s normal” he says
I swear just to debate,
cause he doesn’t seem to care.

And I’m bleeding through
my scar tissued skin,
the layers only grew
still I find a way in.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I’ll be down to the last strand.
Check or fold the plays,
the cards aren’t that great
I’ll be down the my last hand.

And I’m bleeding through
my thick nice sweater.
It’s a shame as it’s new
and we’re reaching the cold weather.
It will stain the soft fabric
I may just grab the bleach,
but I always made it a habit
to always keep it just out of reach.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate
pretty soon I’ll be bald.
On hot coals she stays,
though she shifts her weight
and watches her soles scald.

And I’m bleeding through
my clogged and blocked pores,
and the remaining few
are becoming septic sores.
I’ll shed another layer
of a non-protective bubble,
and my hair will continue to get greyer,
I think I’m now in some trouble.
Starting to feel my age…
neth jones Nov 2024
how sick the mirrors are    of visiting our dumb faces
how weary the door is    of being bolted for our precious privacy
how dreary are our voices  to the walls
          as they are trounced  by our mad surly language ?
are the beds exhausted absorbing our stains ?
are the chairs knackered enduring our strain ?

how burdened are the tables by our taxes ?
how taxed are the windows projecting in ?
is the plumbing fatigued
          or the electric stressed ?
how geared up and fearful are the stairs
           as we begin our ascent ?
how bent out of shape is the ovens mood
           to bloat with heat and then cook our food ?

the engines of our house are in order
though  they must consider their efforts wasted
                     maintaining our bewildering lifestyle
29/09/24
duck Sep 2024
the clock ticks and ticks
it's 12am right now-
a time where my icks
are nonexistent as i dive
into my deep thoughts
i feel kinda alive
but also half dead with exhaustion
with my study materials sitting
on my desk.
my brows are furrowed;
my lips are pressed;
it's a never ending cycle.
one that is vicious.
Sasha Sep 2024
Tell me what to feel
Tell me how to be
I'm tired
It's too much wondering for me

But if I'll know which way to go
I'll be revived, I'll do it all

Tell me where I failed
Tell me if I'm good
I cannot decide alone
There was a time I could

Say, can you take the lead?
And fix the broken me?

Tell me where it went wrong
Tell me, have I ever had a chance?
I'm scared of the beginning
I'm not sure how it will end

At night it all seems worst
The days are now the same
Time heals all
When there's no cure, that's what they say
Alexis K Oct 2023
My heart is beating in my chest.
In my head.
In my fingertips.
My tummy is cramping and the pillow is making noise.

I can't get the pillow to keep quiet,
I can't keep my head from pounding with the thumping of my heart.
The porch light sears it's way through the blinds and blackout curtains.
Snores surround me from my partners.

But I can't get the pillow to keep quiet.
I push my head harder into the bed.
But the throbbing of my heart travels to my toes.
Why is my heart so loud?
Why is the light so bright?
Why won't the pillow keep quiet?
I'm tired.
Malia Aug 2024
As I write this poem,
Barrelling toward me are
College applications and
Dual enrollment classes.
Everybody dreads it but
For most of my life, I anticipated
Going to school with the
Hectic excitement that comes from
Imagination only a child can have.
Just like every year since
Kindergarten, I seriously
Lack confidence in
My ability to do what I
Need to do in order to
Overachieve as expected, but unlike
Previous years, I
Quiver with exhaustion earned by
Regurgitating information about
Systems that I will never
Truly need, but am tested on.
Useless, useless, useless,
Very, so very useless is how
We feel now, both the lessons and I.
Xanthan complexion, nauseous, nervous,
Yellow like the school buses I want to
Zap away, but climb aboard anyway.
Trying out an alphabet poem today! If you’re confused why it’s alphabet, look at the beginning of each line ;). Tell me what you think of it. I would love your feedback as I try out some new stuff.
Chelsea Quigley Apr 2024
Dear lord,
Please help me know.
That these feelings I feel
Will come to go.
Guide me through paths
That frost in snow.
Cover me in sun
To dim the unknown.
And lord,
Please know,
Before I go,

I feel ill at mind,
But hope in my soul.
Malia Mar 2024
You’re right—
I’m just making excuses.
Why am I so 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥
All of the time?

“You get more sleep
Than 99 percent
Of your friends,”
You said.

So doesn’t that mean
I am supposed to be
Happy?

“Be happy,”
I say to myself
In my head.

I am supposed to be
Fine.

But I am not,
And all I have left
Is excuses.

And yet,
Why do I look for more?

I want somebody
To tell me
That you are not right.

But I know you are.
Ander Stone Feb 2024
I stare at those dark markings above,
Knowing how tired I am.

There's a fetid vibration humming
Through my bones,
Through my blood,
Through my every thought.

I'm so exhausted,
Yet I can't sleep.
I'm so exhausted
That the only pill
That could put me to sleep
Is a stray bullet.

There's a rancid susurration chiming
Through my flesh,
Through my bones,
Through the very essence of my coil.

I'm so tired
And in need of sleep.
I'm so tired
That even the cold steel
Of the train tracks
Welcomes me
As the only pillow
I can see myself able
To rest my head upon.

There's a rotten pulsation howling
Through my blood,
Through my bones,
Throughout.

I'm so drained
That an eternity of sleep
Just wouldn't do
Anything...
My only solace
Are the minute finger prints
That echo a memory of starlight
On a darkened ceiling.
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