Wet clouds

Wet clouds

I am sick of being tired
I am sick of the days dragging
Like pulling legs off flies
And the sun moves over the sky
Dragging the wet clouds over my eyes
Plucking eyelashes and
Mascara bleeds down my cheeks
I yawn as wide as the sunrise
And sigh as long as the sunset
I watch birds circling through my window
And let warm teacups pass the time
I yawn and I sigh
And I tell myself
I am so sick
I am so tired.

By Emma Catherine

thelilaclysander.com

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