I'm done,

but

 

I want more,

though

 

I'm tired

and overworked

 

my eyes have got luggage and

my head has begun to hurt

 

I'm getting by on mania

I don't know how

 

"I'm able."

 

with my fingertips on

the edge

of glory

 

I barely pass

as somewhat

stable

 

I'm living out a nightmare

where I'm sleeping

all the time

 

to avoid the pain

of waking up

just to stay in bed

 

and cry

 

the nights are dark

and dreamless

 

the days are long

and gray

 

I'm lying through my teeth

when I tell you,

 

"Honey,

I'm okay."

 

I know I don't have it figured out

and the future

is a blur

and I'm terrified of break ups,

failing grades, and

nuclear war

 

so what

if I'm depressed?

so what

if I'm anxious?

 

I don't need to hide in bed

beneath

literal.

security.

blankets.

 

I ended this year solidly

 

I'm still walking proud

 

next year's a giant steel-toed boot

 

stomping the last one out.