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Tomorrow.

I'll do it tomorrow.

I've earned it today.

 

No, you haven't.

That's what you always say.

 

I can stay up till 3.

I'll just get 5 hours of sleep.

 

That's fine.

I'll still get done in time.

 

But, then you'll be working Sunday.

And what about next week?

 

There's work to be done before then.

You have assignments to complete.

 

But, I'm not doing well.

I'm feeling down right now.

 

I need...to watch more people falling in love.

Just another video—I'll still get up at 8 somehow.

 

No, you won't.

That's a lie.

 

You're just going to snooze.

You'll wake up at 12 and act like it's fine.

 

I can get it done.

I just need to be in a happy place.

 

I've put things off before.

I can fix this mistake.

 

But, you haven't done this in forever.

Just put your phone down.

 

Come on, just close your eyes.

Stop fucking around!

 

It's 4 already...

I need at least 7 hours of sleep.

 

I'll try getting up at 11.

That should be enough for me.

 

You idiot!

You set your alarm for 12.

 

Are you at least going to answer it?

Of course...you're putting your phone on the shelf.

 

What is this hell?!

 

I'm too tired.

I'll try getting up at 12:30.

 

I'll set some alarms minutes apart, so I'll wake.

Tomorrow...I'll get up early.

 

Your alarm is ringing.

You're finally up!

 

But, you're still lying in bed.

Come on, you're not actually stuck.

 

I know it's late.

But, I still have a few more days.

 

I'll get up after this clip.

After all...It's okay to have a slip.

 

It's now 2.

You have work to do.

 

Thank goodness you took a shower.

You can at least put in a few hours.

 

I've washed my face.

I look like a disgrace.

 

The bags aren't gone.

Too many months staying up till dawn.

 

But, now there's something worse,

Only rest could reverse.

 

Long, red squiggly lines,

Stretched across my brown eyes.

 

Those shouldn't be mine.

 

But...

 

It's too late for today.

A few hours in won't make it okay.

 

So...

 

Tomorrow.

I'll do it tomorrow.

I've earned it today.

 

No, you haven't.

That's what you always say.

 

At this rate,

Those red lines will never go away.

 

Authors note: I feel like this poem says all it needs to about what I'm going through right now. I wrote this last night/at 3 in the morning, when I should have been sleeping, and I posted it here to get it off my chest.

I'm not going to lie: I feel really bad about myself, this week in particular. I've been trying to stay positive, but it's not going well. I need to get my shit together. So, I'm sorry if I don't respond to any comments for a while. But, more so, I'm sorry to myself for being so fucked up that I'm putting things off when I know what's at stake.

 

I really, really like this poem. It is so successful at conveying your emotions. The tiredness is everywhere, but a horrible kind of tiredness, this mix of urgency and apathy, this paralyzing anxiety... What you describe here, it's something that I tend to do, and I've been doing that a lot more lately because with staying at home most of the time (covid-19 is still going strong in my country) I can get away with it a lot more than I used to in the past. So I recognized myself a lot in that poem, and I think you nailed it.

I'm sorry you're going through a rough time. Take care of yourself honey.

 

Thank you. I appreciate that a lot. I just sent you an email. I wanted to let you know here, in case you don't see it right away.

Also, to anyone on the Fresh Poets Society forum that was concerned about me:

I am so sorry if I scared any of you. I know my poem/note may have seemed out of the blue for me and worrying. Honestly, it was brutal to write. Poems are personal. And, what I can't tell anyone or myself, I generally say in this format (if ever publicly). I shared something currently personal about myself, though not the full story of course. I'm not up to posting a new/old poem on here yet; I hope to within the next month. But, I did just want to let all of you know that I am okay. I'm not in the same place I was in August.

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