After sitting here for the past half-hour attempting to think of a song to feature for “Tuneful Tuesday,” I’m giving up. Something just isn’t right. I’m sleepy. Not just right now, but seemingly all the time. I used to joke that I could go to sleep practically on command, but these days I could probably do just that. It’s as if I’m in a haze of sleepiness, and I can’t seem to find my way out.

There are some possible reasons for this. Medically, tests have shown that I have a low level of testosterone at sleepythe moment, and I have been getting shots bi-weekly to try to solve this. Seasonally, the days are colder and darker, and that can naturally sap a person’s energy. Mentally, I suffer from chronic depression, and some people who are depressives tend to want to sleep too much.

Whatever the reason, I am growing tired (no pun intended) of feeling this way. I don’t write a lot of poetry anymore, but I jotted these verses down several weeks ago when my frustration was particularly high. Instead of continuing to ramble on about how sleepy I am, I think I will let these words speak for themselves and head to an early bed. Good night, all.

Tiredness (My Bones)
There is a tiredness within me
It steals my breath and wearies my limbs
It forces my eyelids together, weight upon weight
I fear it. I can sense it coming
It does not move stealthily, but arrives like a hammer
Pounding away at me, ratcheting up my panic, my anxiety
It will take me, I think to myself
It has no mercy on my status or situation
Where did it come from?
How did it invade my body like some parasite?
It could be chemical; it could be mental
It could be spiritual; it could be environmental
My panic cites another reason, a more insidious fate
It is not an invader; it is not an enemy
It is me
It is the slothful, lazy, shuffling essence of me

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