Burnout

In twilight’s haze, where shadows creep, A soul unravels, threads frown deep. The clock ticks on, a relentless beat, Dreams suffocate beneath concrete feet. Part 1: Ember’s Fade Flames that once danced, now smolder gray, Passion’s ember, choked by endless day. Tasks pile high, like autumn’s leaves, Crushing weight, the heart’s wild weave. - - - You chase the clock, a ghost in loops, Exhaustion whispers: _you’re not enough_. Each checkbox ticked, a victory cold, Joy leaks away, like stories untold. Memories flicker – laughter, love, art – Now distant echoes in a fractured heart. The desk, a battleground. The bed, a cage. When did the spark turn to rusty rage? Part 2: Fractures Mirrors show a stranger’s tired eyes, A map of fractures, hidden compromises. Smiles are masks. Tears are debts unpaid, Drowsy mornings, where hope goes to fade. - - - You ghost through days in autopilot haze, Missing beats, as life’s wild song decays. Colleaques’ voices blur, a distant hum, Tasks done on loop, but the soul’s numb. Family photos gather dust. Words unsaid. Love’s tendrils wither. The heart’s threadbare red. Night falls hard. The mind spins threads, _Could’ve been_, _should’ve been_, in restless beds. Part 3: The Weight Bodies bend beneath unspoken loads, Aches that whisper: _this isn’t what you owed_. Dreams shelved like books in forgotten stacks, The fire in you, a dying flicker’s cracks. - - - Silence gathers. No one asks _how_. You learn to hide, to nod, to wear _I’m fine_ now. But in dark rooms, truth unravels slow, _This isn’t living._ _This is slow_. Coffee’s bitter. Food’s a chore. Air’s thin. Each breath a fight. Each smile a sin. Lonely hours, where ghosts take shape, Echoes of _what if_, _why_, _escape_. Part 4: Fracture Points Some nights, rage ignites like fuel, _Trapdoors slam._ _The mask cracks cruel._ Tears stream hot. The pillow swallows screams, _Mistakes pile high._ _No one knows my seams._ - - - Forgotten joys resurface, taunt and sting, _You were a dreamer._ _Now you’re a thing._ Phrases loop: _not enough._ _too slow._ Burnout’s shadow eats the light you know. But… Part 5: Sparks Midnight. Rain taps. A letter writes, Words pour raw, like cuts that won’t hide. A younger you appears in windowglass, Eyes that sparkled. Hopes that didn’t pass. - - - The pen lingers. Ink blots. Heart slows. The past self smiles. The present knows. _Tough to breathe,_ but words spill free, _I see you._ _I hear me._ Part 6: Threads Memories thread – laughter, fights, first loves, Fires you fanned, though winds sent doves. The desk’s dark wood. The chair’s soft sigh. The letter ends. The younger self drifts by. - - - Lampshade warmth. Shadows lift their gaze. Outside, rain veils Prague’s twilight haze. You fold the page. A spark revives. _Enough_ whispers. _This is where I thrive._