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