And while I’m staring up at the ceiling
or staring into the bottom of a glass
or staring straight through the smile on my mirror
I just sometimes get so tired

Tired like my skeletal system is tired of being a skeletal system and being the one thing that keeps this mess of soft tissues and sharp edges in its upright and locked position
Tired like my mind is an old slide reel projector that’s been playing for days if not weeks and the film is starting to corrode
Tired like if I were just to empty my lungs, and my body were to forget to remind me to refill them, I might just let it
Tired like I’m sure the soles of my shoes must have carved canyons into the concrete by now, because erosion is a two-way street
Tired like if universal entropy is really how this planet is going to go, then I’m content to sleep until I become nothing but a soupy mass of atoms spinning through absolutely nothing
Tired like I’m sitting up in bed, avoiding checking the time, watching the blades of my fan spin and thinking about sine waves, the face of the clock is blinking but I can’t catch a wink, and every two minutes my mind shakes me awake and takes me on a field trip
and I have to let it