The summer sun's an auger drilling deep
To sap my will and hasten my decline,
And by the time night falls, I'll pray for sleep.
From when its faintest rays begin to creep
Beyond the long horizon's boundary line,
The summer sun's an auger, drilling deep.
When morning comes, I'll buy my living steep,
But living wilts me 'till I can recline
And by the time night falls, I'll pray for sleep
As if I died, as if I'd get to keep
The scrapings that I'd earned, as if they're mine.
The summer sun's an auger, drilling deep.
Each moment sowing seeds I'll never reap
Comes twisting down around my brain and spine -
And by the time night falls, I'll pray for sleep.
All wisdom, wits, and words ring hollow, cheap,
Some wilted offerings at a broken shrine.
The summer sun's an auger, drilling deep,
And by the time night falls, I'll pray for sleep.

I am tired;
As a man on a journey
Whose only home is carried on his back,
As a poet who has nothing
But an empty mind and a page that is blank,
As a child born into poverty
With no future and no going back.

It grips me, weighing me
Like a puppy in a sack,
The dark river beckons
Ready to devour,
The cold grip of death
From a breath,
I cannot quite catch.

I am tired
That no rest can cure,
No sleep can quench
No meal can nourish,
No vista uplift,
Tired of existence
To the core of my being.

I know a man who locks himself inside
His head, his conversations, tucked away
Behind a maze of cheer. Each day, he's lied
A thousand times. He clocks out for the day
And, free but weary, sheds the mask for sleep.
I start the day with coffee, bitter, black,
Which suits my mood just fine. I earn my keep,
then turn around and give until I lack.
The coffee doesn't last, and by the end
I've found myself a stronger, harder drink.
I watch him bottle workdays up, my friend,
And brew himself instead. I'd like to think
We both get by. That doesn't do much good.
This place devours us and drinks our blood.

I want to fly into the skies,
like nightingales
and rest on roses
with my tender being.
Now my mind lies
on each leaf,
like shadows do in the summer.

If I could only tell
all my worries to myself,
because I am chained to tiredness,
and so cannot talk,
let alone sing about them.

Your world was black and white
I presented you a beautiful sight
I aided your falling world
I saved you with painful words.

I am always aiding all of you
I promise to always save you
I hit you when you're being irrelevant
But now I am feeling very distant

You all salute my strength
But you never knew the truth...
The tough steel was bent
Indeed, disappointment is the fruit.

I am at the very bottom
Again, as if waiting for autumn.
But I prefer spring...
Because I'm walking in winter, desperately surviving.

I wish for reinforcements
Due to this storm, I'm breaking and leaving fragments.
From here, home is still far.
Walking alone, navigating through the stars.

I'm getting really tired...
But falling asleep in the snow, please give me fire.
Someone please, oh please rescue me
I don't want to say goodnight, its too early.

This path on which I've come so far,
It has neglected my condition and left me tired.
The fire within is fleeting like a dim star
As these legs move like thinned wires.
Premonitions of the precognitive sort
Project into my dearest slumbers
To lend a communicative report
Concerning the sweetest of encounters.
But that future seems so far away
And my will to move forward
May waver towards the end of days.

Yet happenstance will show me my way,
She hardly leads the lost astray.

I don't want to read the news
          I want to immerse myself
                     In you

You say you have chronic fatigue
I respond with so do I
You say I’m not in your league
The difference is I try

You say you have a disease
So you can stay on your knees
And beg and plead
For sympathy
Then you gatekeep
Based on sleep
So I can’t make a peep
Unless I’m curled in a heap

You have problems
But you abuse this
When you don’t solve them
They turn into excuses
You’re a hypochondriac
In a cycle so black
Your mind is cracked
From panic attacks

I’m not here to jeer
Those paralyzed by fear
But once you are near
I meet your whiny leer
As you show a clear lack of empathy
Saying no one else understands depression
I constantly feel it enter me
I just don’t make the same concessions

I don’t mind if you take medicine
For your head to win
Against the grim
But don’t tell me you have it worse
From your self imposed curse
Living in the back of a hearse
Because when I say you should stop running
I see a shitstorm coming
With war drums drumming
Showing energy that’s stunning
I guess it was reserved for hunting

I am laying on the ground
staring up at the ceiling,
nothing left to try for.

I lay in this dark room,
for so long,
trying to get the feeling of feeling nothing.
What some consider death,
I consider heaven.

Then I hear footsteps and the door
opens
and the light floods in
and it's my mom
and she yells "clean your room!"
but all I wanna do is
wipe,
wipe,
wipe myself off of the Earth.
But can I say that? No.
So, I just say "I'm tired."
But she doesn't know what that means.
For I am not tired and want to sleep,
like in the sense of fatigue.
no, no-no
I'm tired of living and life.
And the action of walking,
talking,
and moving.

For what you consider
death,
I consider heaven.

I think it’s far past the time,
that I go and change my full name.
It’s not that I’ve committed a crime,
It’s just I’m done playing this game.
It’s a waste of my time and energy,
and I’ve become aware there’s a closet in my skeleton,
it’s moved from where it’s meant to be,
I guess it’s not just my will power that’s made of gelatin.

I took a power drill to my right temple,
to create a hole and install a switch.
To erase my thoughts I ignored the detrimental,
but every memory slips it’s way through the stitch.
Sometimes it’s not the change you want,
but maybe it’s the change that you need.
Don’t hide your wounds, they’re battle scars you should flaunt,
and praise that you still have the ability to bleed.

But I’m a hypocrite of the worst kind,
as I encourage others to embrace the pain.
My worst enemy is my own mind,
and I’m plotting havoc against my brain.
I’d do anything for a clean slate,
I’d give it all up to once hit “reset”
The best I can do right now is just wait,
and hope one day I can be blessed to forget.

I tried to go back home but the doors are all locked,
and someone’s in my parking space.
There’s a sea of debris on the roads that I once walked,
my existence in my own home has been fully erased.
It’s almost so tragic that it’s comedic,
that the only two things I want slipped through my grasp.
A concept is invisible, so how do you beat it?
If you never held it how do you reclasp?

But I’m a hypocrite of the worst kind,
as I encourage others to embrace the pain.
I’m tired of being ******* within this bind,
like a cartoon character on the tracks awaiting an oncoming train.
I’d do anything for a clean slate,
I’d give it all up to once hit “reset”
Am I starving even though I cleared my plate?
Am I swimming in riches while drowning in debt?

Eternal sunshine of a spotless mind,
speaks more to my state, praying to become blind.
Atleast I wouldn’t long and yearn,
for the spot where I once stood,
‘cause how can you ever return
when you know how it used to be good?

And I raised her up on a pedestal so high,
that her fingers could brush the heavens.
She replaced the sun and became the sky,
and I wished for her at all eleven-eleven’s.