Exhaustion is such an odd thing.
It comes and it goes, it ebbs and it flows;
yet, it can be dismissed with a small dose.
Going days without sleeping does not matter
to someone without someone.
Going days without weeping does not matter
if those tears have nowhere to fall.
Falling is expected in order to change perspectives -
Know where to fall.
Why scribble marks on thin white sheets
if they make sense to none?
I’ll tighten my grip.
The sheet, it rips, it tears, it swears
that it has a purpose not so foul.
I add it to the pile
next to the empty bottles.
Why does that thing on the wall look at me so?
Those marks, in a circle, chanting around two asymmetrical arms:
“Tick, tick, tick.”
I hear it
and grab another sheet.
Question mark. Period. Apology.
I am feeling numb
and vomit.
I hear it
as my pen drops,
so I fold the paper into the envelope.

Exhaustion is such an odd thing.

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Written/Completed March 6, 2018.