I'm tired.

I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm tired.

I don't want to be anything but horizontal,

yet I want to do everything all at once.

I want to read books, and cook, and workout and drive

but I'm so tired. I'm tired. I'm tired.

What is this?

Is this getting old? But I'm only 35.

People say I'm young, but it might as well at the middle of my life.

Or I might die tomorrow or in 8 years,

you never know.

There's so much to do and see, I can't stop

but oh, I just want to be stretched out on the floor.

I want to sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

Forever.

My eyes are closing down, I'm drifting away.

But why am I still here, typing this

instead of going to sleep because I'm tired. I'm tired.

I'm so freaking tired.

~~~

Thank you for reading!

Here are some of my other poems you might like: