i am tiered.
what if i sleep
will i write a poem when i wake up?
i'l probably wake up too late
and go to college
and laugh with my friends
hear something interesting or two
contemplate
sit with all my weight
on the nudging
knocking
darkness.
go home
as the car drives closer
the weight i put peals it's self
i watch it unravel
take over
spend all day
trying to fit it in the
tight knit dress
of a poem
get tiered
really
fucking
tired
and go to sleep.
its a tiny little flame
it's a tiny little flicker
it fades and fades.
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