Tired
After Tulips by Sylvia Plath
By Alyson Smith Published 11 months ago • Updated 11 months ago • 1 min read
Photo by Christine Siracusa on Unsplash
Tired
I am trying to still the quickening
so they bring
me a bolus and I stop
dancing and cleaning
cobwebs from the lightbulbs.
I am sleeping, but wake,
intermittently numb
to my surroundings.
I remembered no voice
but I did not feel alone.
Just tired. Absurd. And tired.
About the Creator
Alyson Smith
Writer & Artist with Level I Autism & a whole lot of Bipolar. Based in Newcastle- upon - Tyne, works as an administrator in a Nursing Home. MA in Creative Writing.



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