Things i'll never say || small poetry

Tired

I'm tired.
And no, this is not something I say for the hell of it and I don't use it as an excuse like a child eating the leftover chocolate cake and blaming it on the dog.
I'm hurting.
It gets to the point where my eyelids start to flutter, as they try to make sense of the blurry calamity that is this life, and the yawning starts to take a toll on my jaw, leaving it aching.
I'm numb.
Numb like the tips of a child's fingertips when they walk into the winter weather without gloves. Numb, as death slowly takes it's time carving out every indentation into my soul. Marking me his next victim.
Tired.
It's not just a word I use to explain the exhaustion of the day, or the lack of sleep that my body prevents myself from getting every night.
It, in itself, is a death statement.

~Loneliness