Tired
The house lies bare— a mess not far off from my mind. Hair still heavy with the weight of wet tears from the shower. The elastic of panties clings softly to me, and the baggy T-shirt sways with my steps. My shoulders ache— from the weight they carry, or the days they couldn’t. The lights are out. Crickets jeer like voices outside myself, mocking the responsibilities I bear yet falter to fulfill I lay bare in this dark room, on a bed that has known the full truth of my sleepless nights. I stuffed these ears of mine with earphone and turned up the volume, to defen the thoughts and voices that speak no good to me. Only mellow songs broke through. They melt the ice that’s lingered far too long. My legs feel the quite warmth of each other's soft embrace. Sliding over each other with solace, While the shawl's threads caress my skin with patient hush. My tired eyes stare upward at the fan, still turning. Still doing its job. Endlessly. Tirelessly. Not ...