Tired

I’m just tired.

Though I suppose it would be more accurately described as a strong sense of world-weariness;

This soul deep ache, deeper than skin and blood or bone - cutting instead into the mind and spirit.

My physical is great. Fine. Alright.

I’m just fine staying up well into the wee-hours, come day break. Come real tiredness.

But I’m so tired.

This false tiredness is pulling me down and infecting my will.

It feels wrong to feel such a way, like I am undeserving of such a pain...

I have a good life, there have been but few hardships. And so, it feels selfish of me.

But I’m tired.

The wells in my eyes are perennially dry and all I can do is stare and squander.

What is there to be done?

I’m just tired.

And that’s all I can say when I brush them all off with a smile.

“It’s okay, I’m a bit tired today, is all.

I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

And I hope that I will.