Boredom is often mistaken as exhaustion.

Pain

that hole in your soul

we all have

until we allow purpose to fill it

overflowing unending.

Humans unique

existing

because there is one thing

for you to carry out

where none other can suffice.

You have to be open

awake

allow yourself to become a seeker

naked

exposed

to experience the energy

solace

rapture

of becoming a finder.

Too tired to write.

Yet, I am writing.

Its a delicate world we live in.

Balanced on a knife’s edge.

#poetry

#https://jtwannabewriter.blogspot.com

There once was a girl

She lived her life to the fullest

But then in one moment

She realised something

She was too tired to think

Too tired to care

Too tired to see

Too tired to be

So she moved to the countryside

Looked at the stars

And lived in her own world

Acorn minded freak

Words I sought to speak

Lost translations at my feet.

There She roams,

Chaos wielder, angelic healer,

Leave me be in ruins ahead.

I don’t know how to talk to you. You want honesty, I can only write it down any other format would be pure disappointment.

Irony or not

Here I run

Clouds eclectic, frozen/burned numb.

Perhaps I can lie two ways but I cannot emote in both forms, here I am genuine in sentiment.

Night atomic

Spliced idiocy

Propeller thoughts

Fly me high

Insanity talks,

Look left then right

Off they walk.

I want company more than food and sleep, yet I crave solitude. I avoid responsibilities to gain a chance at youth again. I pursue truth not seeing my lies.

Paradoxical paradise

Godzilla laser eyes

Slash architecture paralyzed

My inability to write for the past couple of weeks has partly been a problem and has solved my problem somewhat. What else is my mind hiding?

Smoke floats cosmic,

Bistro lights glow

Like floating lanterns

Concussive notes repeat

Empty glass, melting ice,

Dimming taps, horns decrease.

Peace.

there's always something that isn't finished

another task on the bottom of my to do list

spiralling downward

never stopping

my eyes flutter open

to questions and holes is my mind

will i have the time

or does it pass by too quickly

melting like candle wax

leaving me behind

It’s been a long while

since you visited me

for hours on end

sneaking your shots

aching where it’s not

I know you’re not there

a missing limb

yet the pain comes in

waves

and then not for a span

My mind seeks

distractions

perhaps sleep

I’m too tired for this

And there once more

Jumping in air

where emptiness

resides

a phantom spikes

white hot

I beg

plead

scream

convulse

the ghost of what was

insists it lives

And perplexed

exhausted

Morpheus

taunts

still awake

im too tired to keep hurting

from the pain that you inflicted on my heart

but how am i to heal, when you wont

admit that you never loved me like you said

you did?

there is no way i can go on

thinking anyone who claims to

have loved me, could hurt me so badly

and not give a fuck about to state

they left me in

im so tired of trying to convince

myself that it wasnt my fault for not

being everything you wanted because you

made me feel like it was my fault that

i wasnt enough for you to stay

there is no way i can go on

criticizing myslef everyday and

listing all the things that you deemed

not good enough, and trying to

change them for your benefit

- one day you wont have this power over me

Awake.

Traffic noise.

Shall I open my eyes?

Too tired.

Each day is like the last.

Wake up from a nightmare that only continues into, what?

Reality?

Drifting back. Don't resist.

Better this

than that...

#dissociated

Looking at the blinking cursor on my screen:

THAT voice in my head, having woken up hours before me...

“You’re trying this shit again? How many months has it been since you said you were going to set out to be a writer, huh? How’s that going fuckhead? Huh?”

Well, you. I’ve gotten an editor’s pick, I’ve been added to private screenwriter competitions and met some great creative minds along the way, so I-

“And how’s that helping with the bills, huh fucko? You left a perfectly good job with world renowned health insurance for, THIS? What do your peers even think? What do they really think, huh?”

I...I mean, they probably think quite a few things about it, but it’s about what I think of m-

″I AM YOU. And you know what I Really think? I think you’ve been descending in your drive because you’re finally starting to catch on. You sit and wallow about the lack of responses and interviews you’ve gotten for entry writing jobs, but you’ve stopped writing...you think the bigshots can read your mind, dumbfuck? You think they owe you a chance for the Possibility of ideas? Like what comes from your head is any fucking better than the next person? Another cliche misunderstood writer with self-loathing and an overly dramatic sense of self-awareness. Wow poor you bud.”

At least I’m trying agai-

“Trying? Trying? You call this trying? You’re projecting your inner fears and ramblings onto a website for writers who’ve shown they Actually have what it takes to make this a career and some of them are just here for a hobby. You’re supposedly doing this as a full time gig now. Look at those emotionally drained little eyes you meek little fuck. Maybe if you’re head wasn’t so far up your ass You Could’ve Seen She Was Headed For the Door.”

No...no one else I’ve talked to saw her leaving eithe-

“No one else was with her for over eight fucking years, genius. You were engaged for three! Who the fuck is engaged that long, huh? You helped her through losing three of her closest relatives and you still couldn’t convince her you’ve brought enough to the table. What do ya think was the prescription in her life to fix her eyes, dickhead? Was it how uncalculated and stupid the risks you take are? That sad little squinter of a diamond you bought to ask that irrelevant question? Oooh! Maybe it’s because you didn’t put any effort into knowing her family. People had to be dying for your ass to even show up most times.

Whatever I suppose right? Not that it fucking matters at this point anyway. You’ve got ME. Who else could you need?”

Anyone...