Haze of Exhaustion

I wake in the fog,
already worn before the day begins,
eyes heavy as if they've carried the weight
of a thousand sleepless nights.

The world hums with its relentless pace,
but I am moving through molasses,
sluggish limbs dragging behind my mind,
which itself drifts—
floating somewhere between
here and wherever dreams once lived.

Fatigue is a constant companion,
clinging to my bones,
an unshakable shadow that whispers
in every step, every breath.
Even rest is restless—
sleep a shallow dive,
never deep enough to touch the calm.

Each hour stretches thin,
a threadbare rope fraying at the edges,
while I hang on,
barely gripping the frayed strands,
knowing I’m caught in an endless loop.
Too tired to fight,
too weary to let go.

And so I exist,
not quite awake,
not quite asleep,
just caught in the in-between,
waiting for a breath
that feels like relief.