I'm tired, but can't sleep;

I'm excited, but not much, really.

It's been hanging over my head for long,

The only relief comes when there are songs;

Songs so loud that they drown

All my thoughts, turn around my frown.

I smile to myself, so present

Yet so impossibly distant,

I watch everything, but can't register it;

I wanna scream, but can't bring myself to do it.

Been so long that I feel so off,

In my mind, left and right people watch me and scoff.

I haven't opened my books in over a fortnight

This struggle within, this internal fight:

It leeches at my soul;

So pointless, hindering my goal.

I know it all, I sense it too.

But can't react, I know I'll be sorry not to.

In my mind's eye, watch them come and go;

My mind has never worked so slow.

I watch the clock tick twelve;

Another day has gone, and more I've dwelled.

I wonder vacantly when I'll be set free?

How long this will go on, this madness spree?

I feel a warm wetness on my cheeks

No remorse kicks in as I blindly speak;

I talk to myself, talk senselessly,

I know I'm sad, deep down, internally.

But as the moon will go, the sun will rise,

And I'll have to get up and paste on a phony smile.

I don't remember how long I've been doing this,

But no one ever seems bothered enough to notice.

That the spark that should light itself when I smile is absent;

That happiness is gone, only sadness is present.

I wonder why it happens, that nobody notices;

That the shell you inhabit is all that's left.

I feel an ache near my chest grow;

I don't feel so good, but that's normal.

I watch the clock, I don't sleep,

And in the end, finally, it strikes 6 for me.

I wake up and do my chores:

I shower, dress, eat and put on my shoes.

I spare a last glance at my loft:

The layer of dust on every wall;

The sink full of dishes to wash;

My clothes were strewn over the sofa far off;

And the files in the kitchen, obviously lost.

My eyes fall on the mirror and I stop;

My hand is frozen still on the doorknob.

I look at myself for the first time in what feels like years,

And I realise that my worst fears were coming true after all.

My hair is a mess, my eyes drooping down;

That pucker of my brows, a permanent frown;

My clothes are not ironed, skin lifelessly pale;

I try to process it all but fail.

My eyes travel over my body again, this time slow,

I look so haunted, even the Devil would bow.

I feel my brain overload, all this feels like a lot;

Yes, I realize deep down, that I'm even deader than I thought.