The aches and groans of the living,
Like the creaking sound of a rusty gate,
Or the cracking of joints,
I’m bent out of shape,
Like the weight of the world rests on my shoulders,
Or a heavy foot has been placed upon my back;
Either way, it weighs tons,
It tears me down.
The only time I find ease to the suffering of living is when my eyes are shut,
In that moment I believe the world is asleep,
Even the demons stop waging wars in my mind,
All is well with the world,
Only at night when I sleep.
Now I look forward to bedtime,
To the turning off of lights,
The silence from beeping phones as screen lights go dim,
The stillness that borders between life and death.
I wonder if the dead would sigh as much as I do these days.
It’s just another day for me.