My eyes are bloodshot from exhaustion
They hurt but they won’t stay closed
My tired eyes stare into the blackness of my bedroom, sometimes constantly drawn to the light illuminating from the TV cable box.
They stare harder into the darkness.
My tired eyes see something that isn't just black,
They see my mistakes
They see my desires
They see my fears
They see everything almost at once.
It seems but they take hours to process it,
for I am awake all night long.
My tired eyes hurt.
My tired eyes are restless; they’re constantly searching
for an answer
of a question I do not know yet.