Exhaustion

Exhaustion
seeping from my pores

No one really knows its there
but me

It frames my thoughts
It imposes itself in my sentences
It embeds itself in my patience
It becomes...me.

I am not my exhaustion.
I am not irritable.
I am not intolerant.
I am not insensitive.

I am exhausted.

And in 18 days
I will rejuvenate
my spirit
and my exhaustion
will hibernate

until August,
at least.

Maybe next year
I will have enough energy
to combat it
to make it stay in its cave

Until then
people will have to love me...
and my exhaustion.