Night Space, My Place...
Late to bed, late to study, late to relax.
Late night is only when I'm allowed.
Last moments of day wait for me.
Ordinarily nights are mine...
Ordinarily I don't mind.
Only I'm bothered when they're stolen.
Very rarely do I feel at peace.
Very seldom am I not rushing.
Vacant streets bring me solace.
Everyone needs me by day.
Everyone depends on me.
Everything would be a mess if I stopped.
Fast pace is draining as hell.
Fast cars, fast talk, fast money.
Frankly I'd love it to all go away.
Occasionally I dream of leaving it all.
Occasionally I imagine getting away.
Only I'm brought back to reality by midday.
Racing to school, racing to shops
Racing to appointments, racing doesn't stop.
Reprieve comes only at sundown.
Time to do this, to do that.
Time to feed the dog, put out the cat.
The day to day, sure, but exhausting.
Help doesn't come when you need it.
Help is what I'm called upon for, not granted.
How I manage the days without it I'm unsure.
Endless loads of dishes, half-filled coffee cups.
Endless mountains of laundry piling up.
Extra on weekends, of course.
Nothing is ever good enough, some days.
Nothing pleases everyone, always!
Nobody notices how much of my day is theirs.
Independent women are supposed to "roar".
Independent and strong, they apparently ally.
I personally can't stand much of most of it.
Grieving isn't said, it screams from one's eyes.
Grieving can't be obvious! Hide that you cried!
Going out can be harder than people think.
Home is what I strive for, despite the effort.
Home is different entirely than "house".
How oft forgotten pains me; I refuse to" keep a house".
Tonight I managed to get it all done.
Tonight I can safely say that I've won.
The reward for that? I get my night...