December 30, 2011

I'm too tired to think of pretty words
or think up pretty images.
I'm too tired to make things sound imperfect
and perfect at the same time.
I'm drained of all the synonyms that make every day
sound magical.
To look away from a world of colour and beauty and spark
and find plain, bland, tasteless
is draining. I didn't know
I could be so tired of my own thoughts,
my own wonderings, and everyone else's too.
There's too much real
to turn things into gold.