I’m tired and tried and feeble and through,
I need to sleep, at least twelve hours are due.
When a new morning dawns, I sigh, reluctant to start my day.
Will today be dismal? Will it at least be okay?
I gradually clothe myself, one arm and one leg at a time,
but as usual, when I look in the mirror, my first attempt is far from divine.
Again and again and again
I modify and adjust, I mess around with small strands of hair.
Now, do I look good enough?
By this time I’m over it, feeling myself, less than before,
so I resort into trackies and head out the door.
Did I just embarrass myself? Do they like me? Did I say the right thing? Did I do too much? Will they find me interesting?
What if I trip? What if I fall on my face? Do I look good enough to be here? Am I in a safe space?
Questions. So many questions incessantly flooding my mind.
Questions that debilitate me, questions that make me freeze
Questions that drive me insane,
Why is questioning so hard to appease?
So…
I try harder
smile brighter
walk faster
live larger
talk louder
be sharper
act smarter
…All at the expense of so much of my energy.
It’s only one o’clock and I’m already running on empty.
But at last! It’s the end of another long-winded day, so I roll into my neat bed.
It’s surrounded by mounds of clothes I said I’d fold today… I’ll do it tomorrow instead.
I say my prayers and tell God this was the best I could do,
I’m embarrassed I didn’t achieve as much, but thank goodness another day is through.
Tomorrow I will try again and learn from today.
I’m tired from this inexhaustible variety of life. But it’s the small special moments in between which make the thought of facing another tomorrow… okay.