there once was

the awful curse of memory taunts me excitedly every morning dawn breaks my eyelids apart & pulls me out of unconsciousness into a full realm of truth

yet i don't mind

yet i'm drained. if a single day was the clock, then the various emotions i go through each day would take on each numbered-member seated on the circular face of time. & just like how the hands of the clock timely pass through each of its numbered-member in a consistent cycle, so do i pass through the same set of emotions, over & over again, each one at certain time of the day. it is such an arduous cycle that it makes me want to stab a knife into the universe & scream at it until it shudders & crumbles & burns down itself

the sleeping ache within me wakes to gnaw at me on every possible side. so this is what being tired feels like, i think. the universe has evidently consumed every ounce of energy that once used to run through my veins, leaving me lifeless among the sleeping stars. sometimes i want to hide in bathroom stalls & lie on the cold porcelain tiles & hang a sign on the door which would read something like Always Tired, Finally At Rest

i feel okay about wanting that
if only the world would allow for it