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Jasmine Jul 2
I was totally depressed
In a slump on my bed
Listening to music, but
Hurting my neck.
Straining my eyes, yet
Too tired to rest.
Picking skin
Murdering my soul
From within....
Maybe next time
I'll win
Yes, I'm staying 'active'.
No, I'm not motivated
to do the things I
used to enjoy,
but I'm still doing them
because look at me,
I continue to operate
through the dysfunction.

The question is whether
this means I'm not so bad,
or my desire to not look
like the world's laziest slob
is the only thing getting
me out of bed.

Gotta get that Vit. D,
take mental health walks
and see the people I love,
all while smiling through
what feels like
the thickest fog and looking
through leaden eyelids.
All I want to do
is go back to
a dreamless sleep.
Wake me up
when I'm a person who
functions by desire
and not by design.
Dave Robertson Dec 2021
Forgive me if the fatigue means
my eyes cross
and I lose the thread of your beauty,

it’s in your words, see?
Always has been,
a bit like me

And now my head nods,
we’ll say in affirmation
as you’re a patient person,

though my snort-start awake
will give me away

I’m desperate to stay awake with you,
but these days, y’know?
These days.
Dave Robertson Nov 2021
Off the daily cuff
blood pressure rises,
no real surprise
when this number over that
seems to dictate it all

For it to fall to a level
where there is no dread
of a sudden clutched chest
or brain wildfire
requires time for self care,

And though there’s the rub,
your work will never love you back,
so feel no guilt stepping away
before you crack
Anais Vionet Oct 2021
Sometimes I’ll rouse, in darkest night, to a twilit form, bending over me, so closely we’re sharing the same still air. I never startle, I somehow know, even before I’m completely awake, that it’s not mortal.

This malevolent force stalks time worn halls like disease. It thrives on inertia and stress, it drinks in fatigue like a vampire devours blood and slowly chews on fragile-hopes until they’re desiccated and smell like rotten flesh.

This death like thing waits for each of us, in tedium, as danger hides in shadow - growling with sullen impatience to smother us.

It’s name is failure. Sometimes, I’m so afraid.
Happy almost Halloween
Dave Robertson Oct 2021
The answer “Ok, just tired.”,
like a reflex action,
as knee-**** as the daft decisions,
naïve, fear driven, not yours,
that put you here

In that “tired”, a million branched to’s
trigger a billion possible do’s
flowing like black sand
while you run on fumes
trying to clear

No one wins
digging holes on the beach
while the ignorant tide comes in
Dave Robertson Sep 2021
For a moment,
a minute maybe,
an hour,
my head went under

it wasn’t thrashing gasps
or clawing to froth the surface,
just a steady,
non-negotiable weight
that spoke to my ankles
of depths

I tried to keep my eyes up
following the lipped bubble trail
to the howling truth above
but when my head dropped
the blue belows almost soothed

finally, before lungs gave,
tired fingers relented,
worried the knots,
freed the old strokes loose
Julia Celine Sep 2021
I grow more tired than you,
who's always running
And loves life's sudden dips

And you'll grow tired too
Of waiting
For me to jump this rift
Bella Isaacs Sep 2021
I walked through life with a rude and fresh arrogance:
I was taught it when I was still a big fish in a small pond,
When I still had a can-do-it-all attitude, when the dance
Was life, and the tune was want, and the performer, fond,
Moved like anything. Anyone. Save Lethe, who dulled me,
Who pulled me under waves when I cursed the sea,
When I thought, to time immemorial, I had the energy
To do anything, go anywhere, be anything I wanted to be -
I lived off borrowed time, and borrowed fire,
And borrowed, all of my once blazing desire
Fed no one, but lost dreams - I reap the harvest now:
I should have been a doctor, and I plough
My lack of care and decision, my blind turning, and the resulting salt,
I trudge through the compost of other unfinished deeds, never to halt -
I never knew the meaning of a battery, even when it ran down;
My phone recharges at night, and I simply squint and frown,
Trying to make sense of a world sensible to girl who used to dream;
Sleeping through waking, as though nothing would be as it would seem.
I am undertaking a challenge of writing a poem a day until the 31st of September to raise some money (or at least awareness) for my mother's research group at the University of Oxford, who are trying to find the causes of Lyme Disease, ME/CFS and Long COVID, amongst other fatigue related illnesses. If you are interested, this is their page: . The poems are all going to follow themes that are typically associated with these conditions, such as despair, lost opportunity, exhaustion... Please give me advice and suggestions! I'd really appreciate your input. At the moment, I'm calling the challenge the FortnightForFatigue Challenge. I would like to thank you all for your support in advance.
clmathew Jul 2021
written July 16th, 2021

I swim
up through the years

into a desert dry
future wasteland

so I dive
back down
trying to reach

I hope you find rest, and today.
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