End of the Day

At the end of the day, I lay to rest in a coffin built from failed expectations, failed hopes that all did not belong to me. For my own voice was shushed like a barking dog. 

I wallowed inside of the desires deep daring waters that drowned me in salt filled tears till blood poured from my throat, dripping into the salty water until it attracted sharks that chewed

at my rough skin with angry hollars of disapproval. 

At the end of the day it was another test failed. 

Blotched ink that smeared from tired troublesome tears that tattered from sleepless nights. Nights that should have been slaved over books and notes. Yet whispers of whimsical welcomes of death instead left me stuck inside the layers of my mattress. Suffocating me until I cried out for no more. 

It never laid to rest, forcing me to become numb and cold and as lifeless as a decayed body. At the end of the day it’s another failed test. 

The tall fishermen in large white coats are unable to untangle the numbness that has created my hollowed out body, allowing it to be infiltrated with worms and thoughts that would drive others suicidal. Tossing me aside to be bait for their next catch. 

At the end of the day, it’s just another failed test. 

In the walls of the house that will host my deathbed there is no moving on. Belittling and 

betraying of idioms that spoke of the true importance of life. 

At the end of the day the test is what defines you. 

Once you fail the test at the end of the day you will be meat for the sharks of society.