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Overthinking
She told me to go to bed.
Briefly, it seems like nothing,
But she isn’t a parental figure, and I am not six—
So why is a bedtime in order?
In my head, it tells me she’s bored of me,
That my weird facts have run dry,
And my personality has become an interest of the past.
My heart tells me she’s just worried about my sleeping habits—
It tells me she wants me to get enough sleep.
I don’t know what to think.
There are two conflicting mindsets:
A girlfriend who may or may not be bored,
And me—too tired to make sense of any of it.
So I sit, and I write this poem that I might show her,
In hopes my poetic skill will keep her interested in me.
Maybe it will work.
I pray like a monk that it will.
Fun fact: monks pray for six hours every morning.
Of course, you already know that—
It was that fact that made you bored of me.
Copyright ©
zakk mcdonald
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