Melancholic Ocean

My bones are heavy,

heavy with the burden

of the road partly travelled,

heavy with the burden

of the path still laid out ahead.

Fatigue has set in.

I am so tired.

Tired of my youth,

tired of desire,

tired of wanting.

Just tired.

I can barely reach the evening’s end

without the lids of my eyes

begging to be closed,

without my body longing

to be wrapped up

in the comfort of my sheets,

away from the prying eyes

and curiosities of the world.

Where I do not need to smile,

where it is okay to be far from okay.

In the comforting warmth

of dreaming,

where I can escape to fantasy,

free from heaviness,

free from fatigue.

Just me in my vulnerability,

my unequivocal rawness,

in my melancholic ocean

of silver tears shed

for lost hearts and broken love.