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Strying May 2020
Laying here,
5:08,
I can't believe it's so late.
On my phone,
Once again,
I can't believe this might end.

My life is in pieces,
I'm spiraling,
Attempting to create,
Something inspiring.
But how can I focus when I can barely breathe.
My eyes slowly shutting,
I haven't brushed my teeth.
So I stand up and go.
No sleep for me.

Soon I find that it's 8,
and my day has begun.
It's 5:15 am :) great. I have to go somewhere at 10 am today...
Kaitlin May 2020
I am wide awake.
I am tired.
And my eyes do not want to be open.
They are old.
They have seen too much,
For today.
They are tired.
I am tired
Of this.
Wide awake
At 4:00am
Jazz on the brain.
Right now
I could dance until my skirts ripped to shreds
On knee high grass, and ticks crawled up my legs
I could dance in that,
And not care about ticks and scraped up shins or
How bad I am at dancing
But I'm too tired.
So instead of twisting myself into somewhere new
My jazz brain
Plays on an empty room
Elevator ******* skull.
Too tired to do anything more than echo
My jazz.
But I'm wide awake!
And I want to use it.
But it's no use against such heavy
Blankets and air and silence and space and brain
And I know I would care about the ticks
And it would hurt, to bleed all over that prickly field
And I would care.
Since imagery doesn't feel the same
Never feels the same
As real world nettles.
So instead of dancing.
I am writing a poem.
And my brain is on jazz
Like fire.
And I am wide awake.
But I am so
So
Tired.
Late night stream of consciousness from my saxophone head.
Jennifer May 2020
mind races at night as of
late, eyes ache and i am
uncomfortably warm;
covers on and off,
hourly trips to the bathroom
just to break up my night
of turning and tossing,
thinking and dozing
but never sleeping.
aching with starvation and
frustration it’s
hard not to groan into
my pillow
and i squint at a
screen for a few minutes
yearning for a distraction but
no one is there.
too late: 1, 2, 3,
4 o’clock and the sun’s already
shining through my sheer
cream curtains.
feels like a trap, like a room with
no doors or windows
but it’s ever so bright.
my hair is tousled and damp with
sweat, dreams are black and
last no longer
than blinking.
Path Humble Aug 2018
the count starts now (tired of tired)


I read your outcry at 3:00am
posted on Facebook

you are
tired of tired
sick of sick
the only question, will it ever end...

rise this day,  start another way...

count your blessing
count against all odds
for there are more than merely one

use both hands
both hands chested to feel the heart thrusting,
for living is a wondrous blessing unique
an unbelievable to believe than so many beats,
born and borne,
by you, a strength unequaled,
you a richness possessed

count that one first.
count my hands holding your shoulders.
count that as two, one for me, one for you.

more? more.  

mirror.  find the tiny light in each eye against a yellow backdrop.

add two more. for they are a sparking confidence of confirming.

you felt the heart thrumming
go back, feel the breathing warmth breaching forth.
add another. for now known you can never ever be cold.

wash the face, wash away the caution that sleep leaves,
the coverlet of fear that fears you not to dare,
amazing that tap water plain is sacred when it
miracle breaks you out and anoints thy forehead with pure oil like the kings of yore, be a kingly human being.

go out. do not return
until one act of kind is performed and
count that as a thousand blessed, a sum recurring recounted

walk humble and the path will always appear.
walk contented for you can be both king and servant,
there is no difference - you must be both to be the other
one.

and if you still cannot raise the head,
call me.
that would be a blessing for me
and I will hear your blessings sounds mine merge,
dear friend and no more stranger,
that is the simplest definition of our learning to count to
infinity
4:00am I read your cry on facebook ph pathhumble
Jennifer May 2020
pile of folded clothes laying on my bed
doused in sunlight
coming in through the blinds;
today my eyes ache,
only managed to sleep in the early hours
of the morning, i could cry.
i want to go out
forget about my thoughts for a while,
focus on me and my little mind:
unwind.
wind’s lashing though.
i hate the wind, it blows my skirt
and my hair askew.
wish i could go down by the river
and see all of the little painted boats;
forget i am alone.
Juwayriya May 2020
As though living the life itself is not stressful
People expect me to plan my life and every action.
Malina May 2020
it's so tiring,
this back and forth in my brain.

i want to be better.
i want to be content
just as i am.
i want to be able to exhale,
relax
and shut out the voices that tell me otherwise.
but they overpower me.

"my stomach looks good today",
"my legs aren't huge",
"i'm not ugly",
i try to say as my hands tell a different story.
grabbing at fat and skin,
trying to find any imperfection to prove me wrong.
and this is where the confusion starts:
looking in the mirror.

what do i look like?
how should i feel?
am i actually fat?
am i deluded to think i might not be?
i have no idea the answer to any of those questions
and millions just like them scream at me.
every minute.
every day.

if i am fat,
should i be trying to lose weight?
or should i try to accept how i look?

i try to be better,
to cope,
but i don't know which voice is right.
i don't know who to listen to.
and i'm trapped in this in between.

it's ******* exhausting so someone just tell me what to do
I needed to get these thoughts out of my head and onto a page
Artemis May 2020
i'm not being hurt
i'm not in any real pain

but i can't stop feeling this
hollowness

i think i'm broken or something.
Artemis May 2020
I slip in and out of my own mind
and often enough
I get caught in the empty spaces
between my thoughts
and sometimes it is peaceful
that moment of quiet
but when I find myself stuck
in that nothingness
and that silence
there is a stillness that I cannot outrun
and it is cold
and empty.

and then I remember
that feeling anything
is better than this
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