With heavy eyes, I slip under the covers of my escape for I’m done for the day.
Fooled enough people to stop the flow of questions. Yes, I’m alright!
Day unwinds and so do I, like an old coil, hot from the heat, loose from the beating.
Took it all, with a smile, now I crawl away from prying windows, into the shadow of my dim, weak night light.
I promised tomorrow would be better, the sun will rise with more rigour.
It’s come a full circle, I start with sunsets and bleed yellow.
It’s never what I expect, it’s worse when it’s even less. It’s an empty vase that I got to fill.
A terrible, consuming task, not unlike the rock of Sisyphus.
The pillows cut across my neck, as I toss and turn, static electricity shocks my finger tips as I stare at nothing.
It’s not what I asked for, it’s not my cup of tea. It’s not been a meadow of flowers, it’s been a death wish.
Heartache was served to millions before me, nothing new from what I hear. And now after my three course meal, I get to sit through dessert.
Meaningless efforts, useless manipulations, a sieve through which all logic passes through and what I’m left is the residue.
Shifa Naseer 