3:48am - 21/12/21

By Jacky Pearson

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a small lump unapologetically builds in my throat as shallow breaths repeat.

exhaust weighs heavy on my being.

fatigue buried deep, residing inside my marrow.

lethargy gazes down at me, concerned;

tempted to shake my body back and forth relentlessly,

to beg and plead for me to succumb to sleep, to conform.

but i continue to lie awake,

defying myself,

rebelliously, religiously, self-sabotaging,

like i always do.

my personal ritual.

my thoughts flow sharp,

stabbing through my flesh like glass shards,

making their way to my dense, solid core to reunite with you.

because of course my thoughts are all about you,

just like usual.

i’m so sick of you.

all you do is loiter.

you roam the halls of my head like a rat, a pest.

i’m so tired of you,

so, so sick and tired.

i hope you vacate my mind forever and never reappear,

as you’re now banned permanently.

my eyes blink tired and dry,

though usually they’re tired and wet when you wander around aimlessly in my brain.

am i finally finished shedding countless tears over you?

or will the familiar, unwelcome feeling crash into me like a truck again soon?

healing is so hard.

leave me be.