Losing It

I'm breaking;
Or perhaps I'm already broken?
Rough hands and tear line tattoos;
The face of a man
Put on to hide the ruins of a boy
Left to suffer in silence.

Make a brave face;
They might not believe you
But at least they won't care.

Everything is much slower now.
The days are tired of this same routine,
Even time is exhausted,
Distorted.

Walls that sway and
Move in the breeze.
What breeze?

I need some sleep
But when am I ever awake?
Days go by like an autopilot
Programmed to respond
With a smile.

The candle is lit
Each end fighting to burn out
And finish the job the other started.