I am writing because
I have this thing where I must always be moving.
My feet My hands My eyes.
Something.
I am writing here because I need some way of telling you how I feel.
A way to tell you why I wish for the things I long for.
I am writing here to tell you, Universe, God or anything in between…
That I am…Tired.
I am so tired of being tired.
I grow tired of the constant confusion of my purpose, my meaning.
“You’re beautiful”… but I don’t feel it.
“ You’re remarkable and intelligent” … but my body begs to differ.
I know I am not special when I ask why I cannot see the things others claim to see.
I can’t be the only one..
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
I am writing because
I have this thing where I must always be moving.
My feet My hands My eyes.
Something.
I am writing here because I need some way of telling you how I feel.
A way to tell you why I wish for the things I long for.
I am writing here to tell you, Universe, God or anything in between…
That I am…Tired.
I am so tired of being tired.
I grow tired of the constant confusion of my purpose, my meaning.
“You’re beautiful”… but I don’t feel it.
“ You’re remarkable and intelligent” … but my body begs to differ.
I know I am not special when I ask why I cannot see the things others claim to see.
I can’t be the only one..