On Crumpled, Lipstick-Marked Paper

This sadness

Sits idly in my chest

Like an unseen counterweight 

Pulling my heart towards the earth-

      begging for rest.

 

I beg for rest, too

I beg for clarity

Because my perspective is blurred at the edges and I can't tell if the ground keeps falling from my feet or if I am walking like there's whiskey on my breath.

My whole body craves sleep in a most final way. 

 

Tired. 

     Perhaps more tired than I have ever been. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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