I’m tired.

Eyes red Dry from tears Dry from two long lonely years Next to someone Whispering in my ears Laying in my bed Lying in my home   I’m over it

Tired I’m tired So tired of his echoes  Everywhere the wind blows His reflection staring back at me

I see him in my sister I see him in my dad I see him when I’m treated Like less than what I am

I’m over it I’m tired

My eyes are red I don’t sleep The night is quiet  Something I keep

Day is bright  Day invades Day erodes my dreams

In daylight, my friends thrive  In daylight, they drive  See places I don’t see Be things I can’t be 

I’m here I’m alone I’m over it

It’s lonely in my head Just me and my dog in my bed Holding him close These days  it feels like  He’s the only one who’s here for me

I want to be a good mom My boy deserves the best But it’s hard when I haven’t gotten any rest

I’m tired I’m over this

“I need a break” I say But I take one and feel I’ve just wasted the day

I’m so tired I’m so over this

I wish I could tell you the fed up-ness made me productive I wish I could say this self-loathing was fuel for change, not simply reductive I wish I could say a lot of things But instead here I lay  A puddle of dismay Sinking into a mattress that isn’t mine Watching messes in my room pile high Avoiding the stress until it stresses me more Feeling like I’m nothing Feeling insecure 

Some days are better than others  I’m up, I take my medicine I find the strength  To remove a little clutter I brush my boy’s teeth I give him a good combing I tell him I love him And imagine a walk But even on good days I find ways to hate myself My legs are too heavy to lift from the couch My mind is too weighted to move my own mouth The leash is far, the door is cold The blanket is warm and to that, I hold

Self-loathing, self-disgust, self-disappointment…  The list goes on I could tell you a million reasons I’m unsatisfied with myself  Write enough books to fill ten of your shelves I could jot it all down in ten minutes or less  No hesitation, no doubt. But if you ask me to say something kind about myself, My mouth dries out I mumble things about how I matter Because I matter to others I’ll tell you how I’m good, because I did something for my brother  I’ll tell you how I’m worthy, because I complimented my own mother What could possibly matter about me if not my value to others? 

This existence is exhausting  But if I can be of service Maybe there’s a point to my struggles

I will stay here I will be tired I am alone It’s how I’m wired.

Vivian R. Saunders