life is exhausting.
if not mentally,
physically.

my heart doesn't stop to rest
my blood doesn't quit flowing through me.

my eyes blink,

my cells multiply,

my legs grow.



when may we be still?



© lj brooks

(i wrote this like 6 years ago as a little baby angsty 16yr old. but unlike most of my other old depression/anxiety induced poetry, this one i still kind of enjoy)