Tired.

Losing myself was an odd process. I felt myself slipping away slowly. Becoming distant without even noticing.
And then I noticed.
Instead of focusing on life, I focused on floating. Floating through life.
And it was fun because I was numb. Nothing could hurt me. Nothing mattered.
I was tired. Tired of trying and being defeated once again.
Then one day I woke up,
And I was tired of being numb.

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

Perhaps it’s oxymoronic to say we’re most in pain when numb, but I think that’s what you’ve captured in this poem. And, it’s exhausting.

I like how you used “floating” in this poem. What I kept thinking is the absence of connection and touch. Everything is ephemeral when we float and drift, never staying in one place long enough to find joy. Waking up saves us, if we have the courage to connect. That’s what I read here. A deeply introspective poem but one that connects with many people.