After a meeting

My bones are rock, the act of talking

leeching the energy from my mind

even though I know I look completely comfortable.

I get home, in my own space;

that’s when it comes out. Materialises.

The heaviness. The weight.

I deaden, yet laugh maniacally

as it rains from my body.

I’m tired.

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Pi inches of parchment

Unfurling the scroll, it seems

it will never end,

a list upon a list that is

stuck in my hands

for an eternity I don’t want to face.

Ticked boxes, completed tasks,

I’m winning,

then the scroll is reversed

and instead I see

how much I’m losing.

Losing, or lost? That’s

the question now.

All I need is a chance.

Just one,

and then I’ll feel like me again.