I am tired.

In the spaces between my heartbeats

I find moments of silence

anchored by shadows to the breath of every dawn,

but this is before

the daytime expels sunrise’s misty serenity

and thrusts me into a place

where people use my ribcage as a staircasedawn 3

and fill my ears with the incessance of murderous sparrows.

In a city wrapped with sweet ashen beginnings

and quietude and copper brushstrokes,

where the pale gleam of dawn breathes deeply and gently;

this silence that I so crave

I must trade

for the demands of every day.

My heart pleads with my mind,

tries to carve its way out of my chest before the half-light

is thrown into sharp relief.

I am tired.

I want to sleep,

and when I wake

I don’t want it to be because I’m too tired to sleep anymore.

I want to open heavy eyes to the russet streaks of dawn;

filtering through the slant of my blindsdawn

and falling into soft patches of light.

Harsh daylight cannot compare; dawn’s hazy and muted eyes

(tenderly singing me awake with murmurs of the mournful night’s wind)

are blinded by piercing shafts of abrasive morning light.

They are stabbing the sunrise-

caustic and severe-

just as perpetual daggers of voices stab me.




All frustrations!

Cacophonous bombardment; the noise! The light!

And I am so tired of the daytime.

This poem is an expression of how dreaded the daytime is, because with it come social, academic, and other responsibilities that tug me in every direction without realizing that they are slowly breaking me apart. The dawn perfectly represents the transitory stillness and peace that I breathe in every morning before it rapidly fades away. As my serenity disappears, the obligations of the moment fall onto my chest as suddenly as daytime waves away sunrise. The exhaustion of having to go through each day because I have to (not because I want to) is enough to keep me from enjoying the few moments of peace that I can find. Other people bring change and chaos without even realizing the complications that they create; that is why solitude has for me become something of a rare and cherished gift from Fate.

The summer, compared to school, is like a blissfully gentle dawn that lasts longer than most. The summer was an opportunity to lose myself in laughter and books, to spend my days in the company of words without the lives of others getting tangled in the tapestry of my tolerance. As an introvert, the summer is a haven for me. Meanwhile, the autumn brings with it expectations and loud, bright reds and oranges that my eyes- so used the gold, green, and blue of summertime- have trouble adjusting to.

It isn’t as though I don’t enjoy the company of a few select people; I love my friends and family in the way a dawn may love the chorus of birds that sings the world awake. But too many birds make a racket.


“Language… has created the word ‘loneliness’ to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word ‘solitude’ to express the glory of being alone.”

-Paul Tillich

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2 thoughts on “Evancescence

  1. Dearest Ziyana,

    I absolutely adore this piece as it truly connects with me. My favourite time of the day is dawn when the sun is just over the horizon and the sky is cotton candy pink and purple. I find that the most meaningful and beautiful moments of life happen in the short span of the sun’s awakening before daytime sets in and the dreaded demands of every day that come with it, as you mentioned.

    My favourite line of this poem, “Where people use my ribcage as a staircase” is so incredibly beautiful as it truly depicts the horror of life’s daily challenges and tasks. Life is truly terrible but is filled with beautiful moments and I think that this poem represents the beauty in life that often comes with new beginnings, but also the boredom that is associated with the redundancy of a routine.

    I also loved how you chose to name this piece “Evanescence.” The gradual fading away of the peace and serenity of the night and dawn was a central theme to this piece and by choosing “evanescence” as the title truly represents the themes of the poem.

    To elevate this piece, even more, I would suggest expanding more on what exactly is dreadful about the daytime in the actual poem you did, however, explain in the expository at the end but, in my opinion, by adding the specifics to the piece would create another layer of understanding for the reader and perhaps further relatability.

    I have always admired your intelligence, especially after sitting behind you in science class, and I was so excited to read your blog and I have to stay it was truly a blessing to have read such a brilliant piece. Thank you.

    Kind Regards,


  2. Thanks so much for your comment- I really appreciate your kind words as well as your constructive criticism. I’m so glad you were able to connect with this piece!
    I will definitely work on the precision of my writing; it’s something that I struggle with, but I am working on improving it.
    Thanks again!

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