Photo Credit: MoOnshine90 at deviantart.com

Sleep isn’t easy
with the wind
pouring through me,
laying waste
to my insides,
my bones weathered
into dust
and my heart
rusting in its bed.

There’s a whole lot
to say about people
who live in boxes,
those who love on shelves,

and I’m tired
of keeping
my eyes open
for salvation,
tired of walking
on quicksand
in hopes I won’t drown,

but I’m here anyway,
clawing through
headlines and memories,
searching for some truth
outside the lines,

and instead I find waste,
flat pieces
of flying paper
withering in the wind
that’s been harvesting
my bones
since creation began.




2 thoughts on “Exhaustion

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