Picking Up Weary Bones

Sometimes I feel like beating my head against a wall.  I'm not trying to prove something, I don't care what you think of me, I just want to finish so that I can sleep.  

I keep finding deadlines on my little white calendar.  I cannot remember writing them, but they stare at me like little pencil ghosts.  I can't even sort out which to do first.

Should I talk first of the exhaustion or of the defeat?

Should I just give up this whole endeavor? 

I'm looking at the world through tired eyes, and I can't even say what I'm seeing.