we're near the end, rope worn to strands
empty hands. sighs, numb, tired - so tired -
the day spits me out like gum. gone. can't concent
rate now. eyelids heavy, stones weigh it down.
think... been here already. near the end - the end! a worrying waste, a week.
i'm weak.

YOU ARE READING
Me, Raw.
PoetryMY thoughts MY hurt MY pain MY love My my my Me, Raw. * Poems I wrote by myself, for myself, and to myself.