Burnout

By Shubhangi Anuragi

I work

I work, I work

I tire

I slacken, 

I hate to relax

so I push myself harder

but my capacity is up

I emptied my cup

I close my eyes and 

fail to visualise

I put on my gym clothes

but give up on the third exercise 

then I sat down with my assignments

and halt midway when copying ends

I don't think 'calling a friend' is good idea

because I can't listen

there's fog in my mind and

clouds in my vision

I can't listen to music, 

now some noise of the background 

I can no longer put off

my belly's angry sounds 

hence, I picked up a pen and conjured intuition

"I feel like a machine out of function

attempted resistance is self-destruction.."

so I write in the name of self-preservation

"..I worked, I worked, I worked and I tired

I know the next step, I planned it..."

I swear at the pen and clench it

"...I have hit the wall, I will break it down

.."

(I hate this state, I hate it)

" I am a miner with no tools to mine..."

(I cringe overtly)

"...How will I build now? my powerful empire my holy shrine."

(I get up)

I am now pacing the room

and cracking my knuckles

Don't bother me I-

I have been creating a block for my mind

a block for the race, I am on the start line

it's time,

the pen runs smoother with my intention

"I needed time,

to relax

to fill the empty cup

to recover,

and to cool down the engine,

to sharpen tools and feed

so I can break the wall next time

as I go deeper into the mines

I know the next step I planned it."

I work, I work, I work

and I tire.

By Shubhangi Anuragi