I'm tired, mom.

"I'm tired, mom." but not tired like a need to sleep, tired like I'm so fucking done with my job and I want the world to stop and I just need a cup of tea.

It's just life seems kind of hard right now and the only creature comforts I have is an old memory and a TV.

"What's wrong?" "Oh I'm just tired." Who knew the lie could roll so easy off the tongue? I wonder how many times it's been said.

The truth is though, the world seems so much slower, so much better when I'm in bed.

Pull the blanket up high, snuggle down, one pillow and a dream.

But not a dream to sleep no, a dream to escape. "I'm tired, mom." But you don't see the way I cling to every word of Harry Potter and clutch the spoon after cookie dough ice cream.

I need these things, you see. They're all I've got. And when you call me on the phone and I say I'm tired I wonder if you think about it. I wonder if you think I need to sleep.

But sleep brings me nothing but pain. Memories I'm trying to forget. A false reality of things I've wanted so long but I cannot have. "I'm tired, mom." So I rewatch shows to drown in an ocean of comfort, nostalgia that pulls me in waist-deep.

I guess that suffering and comfort come hand in hand, because I've never gone a day without needing some sort of relief. And I don't mind. The hold comfort provides is almost divine.

"I'm tired, mom." But I won't sleep, no. I'll read a book, hide in my bed and wait for the world to pass, my life illuminated by moonshine.

-

sad poems are always my weakness but I promise my other comfort poem is much happier - read it here!

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