Tired. I have been tired all year, and I am tired now, and this deep-down-in-my-soul tired rises and fall like the waves in the ocean.
But the wine-dark ocean of my exhaustion is bottomless, lets in no light, with dark things swimming, waiting, underneath.
I am swimming in my ocean of tired, swimming, barely keeping afloat. I am swimming, athletic in my habitual strokes, competent in keeping my head afloat, smiling, strong-looking, waving at the passersbys on sleek, silent ships
Yet I am drowning, but slowly. When I stop, I will sink. And so far I desired to sink, I feared to sink, I say some words, it doesn’t work…
I am tired.
Can I stop now?