Assurance

A poem for the chronically fatigued

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When I say I’m fine,
                                        it’s an offering:

     the tenderest deep-fried
                                                  morsel
     of my prefrontal lobe—

     oh, you’re vegan—I’m sorry,
     I didn’t know.
                              When I say I’m fine,

     I mean I’m adept at extracting 
                                                            peace 

     from the veins of the violence 
     that swarms and smothers
                                                       me;

     an invitation to ascend 
     the observation tower, 
                                             to verify 

     the land’s not on fire—

     I’m just tired. 
     I’m always tired. 

But I’m fine. 

∞

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Load-Bearing

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