Help Me, To Help You.

exhaustion would be a great way to describe how my body is feeling right now.
or how my mind is feeling.
i find myself at quite a different place than last year;
and i'm not sure whether i should reward myself,
or wait until i'm at full potential.

A miracle is nothing more than postponed,
arriving to compensate those it had cruelly abandoned.

i'm afraid to try

i was asked today, while holding a red bull and a thermos of coffee,
why is it that i have those energy boosters in my hands,
when i could just have nothing,
and accept the rest i need.

i found myself quoting, and i told her:
"sleep is not a necessity, it's only achievable after the work is done.
and i have too much work to do."
i found myself shocked as those words slipped from my lips.
because before, i had just forced myself to think that way.
i never expected myself to actually believe those words,
to work so much and yet,
never be satisfied.

we're afraid of failure, and afraid of success.
we are afraid of being loved, and afraid of being alone.
the world is full of pain, and this is scary.
and the world is crazy beautiful, and that is daunting, too.
worst of all,
so little is under our control

fear controls a lot of things.
but i can't bear the thought of it telling me what to do,
how to think and how to act.
but i'd find procrastination to be my biggest adversary.
yet, sometimes i'm happy to find it,
because then i have something else to conquer,
another conquest to be made.

she rather felt tired herself.
tired of the waiting, and the misunderstanding;
tired for what's lost, and what's never held in the first place.

i'm in a large debate.
a debate on whether this exhaustion is worth my time.
whether the effort is worth my long nights,
my lack of sleep,
and my viewpoint on the things around me.

i wonder if i'll be like the man,
breaking his back for the rest, and never stopping.
working until eventually,
the pieces of himself that he broke won't be fixable.
and i'll just shatter, like him, like glass.

or will i be the woman,
that cleans and cares and suffers, never thinking of herself.
watching the others fly past her,
while she can only take one step.

maybe i'll be neither.
or a little of both.
there's a point in life where you must look around,
see everything and think:
is this the life you really want?
yet all i can seem to think,
is how much more i can do.
how much better i can be.

i am a bundle of wants and works,
in a tiny bottle of needs.
i desperately want to free myself, so i could do everything,
but like a genie, i am stuck,
with only some things to tide me over.

i don't have all the answers.
sometimes i just like to act as if i do.

"good enough" aren't words i like to use.
striving is something that can be so simple.
that's the way my eyes see now.
i never thought i'd be here.
that i'd be at this place,
this place of work, this place of struggle,
the place of sacrifice,
and this place of solace.

when i got there i loathed every minute of travel.
but now, without wavering,
i never want to leave.

i'm stuck like glue.
but unlike others,
i'll never stop holding on.

with love and light,
eve morgan