tired

i'm tired
tired tired tired
i'm thirty different kinds of tired
and i'm tired of being tired
when i wake up, i am
when i go to sleep, i am
while i'm sleeping i'm tired
but i'm never sleeping
bodies can't breathe on this little sleep
food can't digest
synapses can't snap
i've been tired since i can't remember when
i'm tired like cliches
i'm tired like your grandma's mother
i'm tired like old socks
i'm the tired you're weary of hearing and seeing
i've gotten a year's worth of sleep in five long years
and i need a year's worth of sleep tonight to make it through another endless day tomorrow, and that seems unlikely
i'm older than i am,
don't recognize myself sometimes
tired of myself, tired of telling it, of this, of it
i'm tired enough that sometimes i can't sleep because, well, you know.
i close my eyes and fish flop and wonder why i am awake awaiting being awakened which makes no sense
and trying to sleep i wonder if the president gets this tired
and worry i'm not safe for driving this tired
and contemplate what if your age reflected your sleep, say based on a normal person's eight hour needs,
and what if you did the math and found out i'm a hundred and seventy four
and what if i evict the guy from our guest house, and what if my husband and i took turns sleeping out there instead, wouldn't it be worth missing a mortgage payment now and then just to not be so
tired?