Bag under eyes

As I sit at my desk,
I stare mine own eye.
I notice the bags below.
I’ve noticed them before.
Today they stay- perpetual.
They mock me with exhaust
Though they beg for rest
My mind reminds them,
They are not in control.

Neither am I.

I punch my pillow
As if it is his fault.
Bills, studies, relationships.
Responsibilities of small weight,
Fall like a drop in a bucket.
They build up into jugs-
-Into bags

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