….and rest.

I have a fund of tiredness
It’s almost ocean deep
It lives within the bones of me
And makes it hard to sleep.

It keeps pace with me everywhere
I cannot shake it loose
I have no strength to run from it
Though I would, if I could choose.

I can’t seem to clean my lenses
So I’m seeing through a fog
I should be seeing to this cataract
But I’m dog tired, like a dog.

I’m fatter and more sluggish
The spring has left my feet
Each day is just to get through
Until I try to sleep.

My skin is beige and lumpy
Underneath my hair is grey
The slog I had to fight this thing
Is dwindling every day.

When each day brings a new defeat
It’s hard to carry on
When every day the ground you gain
The next day will be gone.

I cannot win, I cannot win
No victory awaits
The end is just the end
If it’s earlier or late.

And when we finally reach that end
It’s not the end for me
I see the work that’s piling up
The legal, medical, practical stuff
The letters, the phone calls and all of that guff
The arrangements, undertakers, clothes and such
Every drawer and cupboard heaving with junk
Every friend and relative expecting their bit
And right down to the carpets I will have to deal with it
Even though I have got nothing left, after a year of this.

I have a fund of tiredness
In me it is cell deep
It permeates my broken bones
I wade inside its massive tomes
I speak through its sonorous tones
It will not let me sleep.


JaneLaverick.com – a bit knackered

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