unfinished poem

so tired
i’m so tired
so many things
i have to
i want to
i can
do
overwhelming me
a hit in the face
from this wide world
 after a childhood spent in a glass box
with a clear path in front of me
laid out with the arrows
saying “follow us”
but i ran away
i tried to find a different way
and i’m more lost
than i ever was

i’m tired
so tired
how do people manage to live like this?
while i was in my cage, it looked like bliss
being able to choose what will i do
with my day, with my life
but now i know
it’s not like that. it’s not even close
that choice
was an illusion
and i regret leaving, yet
i cannot go back and i’m stuck
missing simpler times
where i was not lied to
but just ordered around
where the world was
just what i saw

so tired
tired…
of what?
i’m not even doing anything. i’m sitting in my room. whining.
not doing anything.
yet so tired. tired.
surrounded by red.
anger, fear, i don’t know what name to give to it
ice-cream’s going to melt
and i’m watching it fall
right on the floor
and i keep looking at it
minutes and days pass
i’m still on my bed
a living corpse
eyes like diamonds
so much potential
going to waste
and i feel myself decomposing
but a moment away from the freedom
voices call back to me
“talent won’t go to waste”
i hear
“we’ll heal you”
i hear
and the ice-cream has melted
completely
becoming a deathbed for a fly
drowning in sugar
what a way to go
not for me
not for me
i am not sweet
i will go dirty
a splat on sidewalk, maybe
or not even that
a rotting skeleton in the closet, maybe
forgotten by everyone

but no! no! no!
i will not go
fear i will be completely forgotten
is keeping me alive

and i fight the urge
manage to live
merely fuelled by
stubbornness
i get up.
wash the dishes.
break down.
get up. pick shit up.
and go further.
no rest for me
no rest for the broken
until the day i finally
mend myself and become
what i always wanted to be
- but does that mean
i’m not broken, but
unfinished?
who knows.
and life goes on
and life goes on