Tired of winter.
Tired of the snow.
Tired of being in pain.
Tired of people around me.
Tired of going to bed too late.
Tired of having to get up so early.
Tired of not dancing and doing what I love.
Tired of failing, being late to school.
Tired of not having good friends.
Tired of all this homework.
Tired of not doing it.
Tired of school.
Tired of you.

I wanted to write a poem.
But I wrote this instead.
I decided it didn’t matter that I couldn’t rhyme things.
And that I should just write whatever comes to mind.
I know there isn’t a single person I want to be with.
But I also know it’s you.

I understand that I’m just a paragraph in your life.

But what you don’t understand,
what you don’t realize
is how many chapters there are
of you

in mine.