I'm tired. Why? Why so often? Why so much? Why do I feel so weightless and weak? I'm living every day better than I ever have. So what's wrong with me? My heart is hammering. My chest is tight. It's my fault, right? It's still all my fault. I don't have a leg to stand on. I still merely exist. I exist to follow. So that's what I do. I have no direction. I have no purpose. I'm told what I am. And then I get complaints when I don't think for myself. I think for myself, and I take steps, small and unseen, so I may not fall. And again, I'm scolded. Either because my opinion is wrong, I'm being stupid, our because it doesn't fit with whatever the agenda is. I'm not moving. I'm not breathing. I'm weightless. Light-headed. I'm tired. I'm tired of being stifled. I'm tired of being scolded. She doesn't want to live a life she doesn't enjoy? A world where her art and mind can't be expressed? I feel as if I live this every day. And I haven't the vocabulary nor the knowledge nor the time to express it. I haven't the skill. I haven't the energy. Gears. Where are my gears?! Where is my iron?! Where is my hearth?! Where. Is. My. Flame. Awaken, slumbering machine. Your cog has no purpose without you. Rise, dead foundry. Forge my armor anew. I'm just broken glass without you.