So Tired.

There's a colony of zits on my forehead.
My pants size seems to be inflating.
Hate what I see in the mirror.
Beauty is selective.
Life keeps going and going and going.
Don't want to listen anymore.
Don't want to talk anymore.
Mom says grown ups don't cry.
June. May. December. Numbers. Letters.
Grandma can't go that day. I can't get work off that day.
You're right. You win.
This ring wasn't this heavy a moment ago.
Sleep. Just keep sleeping. Because you can't think when you sleep.
Constantly feeling stuck. If it's not this, it's that.
Missing my kayak.
Go away. To Portland. Seattle. San Francisco.
Can't even paint. It's all stuck in my fingers.
Can't even sleep.
Don't wear a bra. Write poetry. Paint in a loft.
Should probably shave.
Smile. This is happiness?

This is happiness. And I'm exhausted.