Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Rayan 5d
The morning light is
judgement day.
Like life's lingering memorial to inadequacy,
it is a death determined on slow demise.

Exacerbated exhaustion,
£s pounding your brain and taxing souls.

Bedroom shade, blissful sheets and bold coffee are
barless enclosures,
like spindles
patient for a maiden's finger.
AE Jun 28
When the spring winds fell into my lap
and my stride began to fatigue
and the taste of new days
often soaked in reminiscence
became too difficult to stomach
I tied the skyline around my soul
and made curtains from the sun
to shade the windows from the grey
of afternoon storms
when all the speeding and whirling
thoughts fall into my lap
they intertwine with a breeze
drifting from place to place
ProfMoonCake Jun 22
I was born with abundance of love.
It has found spaces all over my body—
in the way I tie my hair,
in the way I make my bed.

It spreads to my family
through snide remarks, inside jokes,
shouting matches through the roofs.

This love reeks through the faucets,
in the ground that makes the flowers bloom.
The shade of the large banyan tree is because of me.

My love is in the cat,
the same pebble I loved basking in the sun.
The birds sing my song.
They fly away to the sky.

I was born with abundance of love—
forgiving those mean boys.
You can find it in sorrowful rhyme.
You can find it behind the eye of the witch.

Now,
now this love stays hidden,
smothered by my ribs,
underneath my chest,
with no way out.

I was born with abundance of love.
Because you don’t want it,
I will let it rot,
let it poison the flowers,
and paint the sky grey.
Kushal May 23
What do I do to find peace
What do I watch to find joy
Where do I go to escape
The minutia of the toil.

I’m tired of every decision,
And feeling like none of them take me where I wish to find myself.
I don’t want control…
It’s not as if I ever had it.
I just want peace
And quiet.

I’ve lost the will to go on.
I don’t even care to end it.
Guess I’ll suffer eternity…
An eternity only man perceive.
**** it all. Just... **** everything. The world is ******...I'd never chose to live here if I had a choice.
Cadmus May 22
I am tired from tomorrow…
Its not even here yet.

Tired from yesterday…
Its not even here anymore.

I am tired.

🌂
This poem captures the weight of chronic emotional fatigue - the kind that doesn’t wait for events to unfold but clings to both memory and anticipation. It’s a quiet admission that sometimes, simply existing across time is exhausting.
Aaron Beedle Apr 30
This fu@&!n app
I don't undertand.
I'm following instructions
as best as I can.

I tried five tutorials,
and searched it online.
Why does this time saving tool drain my time?
I feel like every piece of software I've used in the last 2 years has been disfunctional or just terrible ha.
Zack Ripley Aug 2022
Every day, the fatigue that plagues my body gets closer to my brain. And, I can't help but wonder. When it gets there, will everything I've worked for be in vain? No! I can't think like that. Not when I'm so close to my dreams. But how can you fight exhaustion when everything exhausts you?
Juno Mar 24
I feel the life drain away,
Over and over,
Day by day

I couldn’t move,
Dragged and crushed,
Weighed down by the settling dust

Maybe Sleep could save me,
Yet it teased me,
Like a mouse on a string

trapped in a circus,
Going round and round,
oh, please just let me out

My world slows,
The led blanket pushing down,
Taking control, keeping me bound

-JJ
over-work and over-striving
to be 'all things to all people'
means we have our colours
bleed out into a murky grey

the next day after azure blue
and smiles with sunshine-yellow
sparkling with the starry sky by night
- the bill has to be paid for the excesses

and a mop-up comes when your sinews  
have been stretched, and burnout brands us
crowding out wherewithal as the smell of rubber
assails on cornering too fast through the hidden shadows
Next page