I used to be patient,
good at waiting—
waiting to see things get better.
I held my anger well
through most of what I lived.
Now my patience is wearing thin.
Every minute I wait
feeds the fire growing inside me.
I used to be good at listening.
Now it feels like there’s a clock inside me—
whenever I try to listen to someone,
it starts ticking,
as if there’s a time limit.
I only hear
my thoughts
running.
I used to know how to tolerate
and how to please,
even when they looked at me
like I was a different species.
I would brush it off
and try to fit in.
The kindness I showed others
felt like a quiet betrayal
of my own being.
I gave
and gave,
and gave
until it hollowed me out.
I reached my limit quietly.
No one noticed
the weight I was carrying.
Only curious eyes
studied my face,
trying to make sense of it
in their own way.
Now their gazes no longer reach my eyes.
I still hear the whispers,
but my steps fall steady
against the ground.
May 3
May 3, 2026 at 2:12 PM UTC
I used to be patient,
good at waiting—
waiting to see things get better.
I held my anger well
through most of what I lived.
Now my patience is wearing thin.
Every minute I wait
feeds the fire growing inside me.
I used to be good at listening.
Now it feels like there’s a clock inside me—
whenever I try to listen to someone,
it starts ticking,
as if there’s a time limit.
I only hear
my thoughts
running.
I used to know how to tolerate
and how to please,
even when they looked at me
like I was a different species.
I would brush it off
and try to fit in.
The kindness I showed others
felt like a quiet betrayal
of my own being.
I gave
and gave,
and gave
until it hollowed me out.
I reached my limit quietly.
No one noticed
the weight I was carrying.
Only curious eyes
studied my face,
trying to make sense of it
in their own way.
Now their gazes no longer reach my eyes.
I still hear the whispers,
but my steps fall steady
against the ground.
