TW: SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ACTIONS
the man in the armor was tired.
tired. it wasn't an uncommon word, in fact it was used everyday.
people often used it meaninglessly, emptily.
they might say they're tired after a long workout, or a strenuous dat at work.
but the billionaire wasn't that kind of tired. he was the kind of tired that you felt in your bones.
he was the kind of tired that never left, the kind that dragged you down on even the brightest of days.
tiredness was thought to be fixed by resting, but if you're really and truly tired, sleep has no chance at besting.
if you're the kind of tired, the kind of armored billionaires, then there'll be shaking hands and empty stares.
if you're the kind of tired, the kind of tired he is, then no amount of sleep will ever help.
tired. a common word. only one thing can ease the fatigue, the exhaustion.
the armored billionaire did his best, he snapped his fingers, and finally did he rest.
for when you are so tired, the kind of tired he was, the only way to make it stop is to eliminate the cause.
a/n: woulda look at that, more shitty poetry
YOU ARE READING
irondad & spiderson oneshots
Fanfictioni was going to go through and edit all of this but actually i have decided i don't want to so just try and pretend it doesn't look like it was written by a 12yo (it was)
