every so often

Sometimes

I question why

I do things.

Sometimes

I question why

other people

do things.

Sometimes

I think I’m insane.

Sometimes

I wish

I could do better.

Sometimes

I question

my worth.

Sometimes

I don’t put

in my best effort

because sometimes

I’m too tired to.

Sometimes

I don’t want

to write poems

to keep my

daily streak,

the one I’ve 

already broken.

Sometimes

I don’t want

to play soccer

or piano

or basketball

or do the things

I love the most.

Sometimes

I don’t want

to do anything.

Sometimes

I think I’m

doing things wrong,

but won’t change anything.

Sometimes

I need a break

and sometimes

I won’t give

myself one.

Sometimes 

I want to sleep

for a few days

before waking up again.

Sometimes

I want to live

without worrying

about anything,

without responsibilities,

without a care

in the world.