i wake up already losing
like the day started
before i could catch up to it
my body feels like weight
my bones feel like glass
my chest feels tight
for no reason i can name
this isn’t “go back to sleep” tired
this is
existence is too loud
breathing feels like effort
today already hurts
tired
but the world doesn’t care
it doesn’t ask
if i slept
if i’m okay
if i have anything left
it just keeps moving
and expects me to move with it
so i do
i drag myself through hours
through conversations
through moments i don’t even remember
smiling when i’m supposed to
talking when i have to
nodding like i’m here
but i’m not
not really
i’m somewhere in between
awake and gone
present and disappearing
and the worst part is
no one notices
because i’m still showing up
they see movement
and call it strength
they see silence
and call it “fine”
but they don’t feel
what it costs
to keep going
when everything in me
is begging
to stop
i’m not lazy
i’m exhausted
in places sleep will never reach
and still
tomorrow will come
and i’ll get up again
not because i want to
but because
stopping
was never an option
-
Author:
unknown444 (
Offline) - Published: April 3rd, 2026 08:20
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments2
Kristen, there’s a deep, lived honesty in this…that space between showing up and barely being there. That line about movement being mistaken for strength anchors it, and the ending lands exactly where it should. I’m really glad you brought this here…welcome to MPS. Well done. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
So well written it speaks to the tired state and the inability to loose it in sleep. Very nicely written it is a fave
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.