when the words on the page begin to blur
he screams to stop trying, to go to sleep
to do something for myself for once.
I ignore him--what can one more
pot of coffee, three hours of sleep,
completely finished English essay
really hurt anyway?
nothing, I tell everyone
nothing is wrong
but my eyelids are closing of their own accord
and the best gesture of my brain
is less than my eyelids flutter
and I tell myself we are for each other
and that I am meant for nothing
and the exhaustion that seeps into my bones
and weighs down my heart
is healthy, normal, okay
overtime you become accustomed
to a life half lived
through eyes never truly open
and a painted on smile
-international baccalaureate // c.r.