Sometimes, I wish my soul
Wasn't so sensitive
I extend my exposed hand out
For others to grab
Sometimes, my reach
Is acknowledged and held onto
Other times, it's crushed
With the overwhelming and
Presumptuous weight
Of being a burden and
A disappointment

This pain is very strong
This suffering tugs and
Drags me down
A sinkhole that I don't even
Notice I'm falling through

Until it's too late
Until I feel lightheaded
When my heart beats
In fluttering patterns
Until my chest tightens
And I feel a knot in my throat

It's hard to swallow this air I breathe
For at times, it's so dense and thick
But there's no fog, no illusion
Just allusions to the fact
That I'm tired...
Fatigued...
Exhausted...
A barren tree
A lot of life to give
But an abandoned seed
In my mind
That's what my demons tell me

This is my story of triumph
That I'm still writing
This is my journey
That I'm still fighting.