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I’m so tired.
But I need to be better.
If I am not,
What is the point of doing?
Xasvel 1d
A long day and I wait for it to pass,
Life I see, not in me or in the mass.
A day too bright for the dark to devour me,
yet the day too dark that the light escapes me.
When will it end? Everything is too exhausting for no reason and everyday is becoming one of the days you feel too overwhelmed.
My ankles were sore
From standing on my
Tiptoes,
Trying to ascertain
The words in your eyes.
There were none.
For me,
You were guarded,
Your gaze obstinate as
You looked straight
Ahead,
Never wavering or
Crouching down to let
Me see into your
Head.
When will my ankles give out?
would it seem so wrong to disassociate – to sever ties
from those closest to you, who know where to strike,
piercing through your heart? yet, I lay bare my flesh,
offering myself as a service to people, in the most
fleeting of ways. true friends are a rarity nowadays;
my eyes are unaccustomed to pretend; smiling with
practiced ease before their gaze

and I only have a few tears to shed, shielding myself
from the gossip of the rain. my unclean skin gleams
under the sun’s harsh light – I am a million desolate
stars, yearning for a miracle amidst the lull of dreams

as father time offers no gifts to the innocent, mother
nature trembles at the sight of her fragile offspring –
we, the inhuman

and life demands that you work like a machine,
yet a machine cannot be alive. but in a similar sense,
both the machine and I grow tired – so, so very tired
        ...the machine would love to disassociate.
I’m tired

Of trying all the time

Even when surrounded by people

I feel so  a l o n e




A body without a soul

Leave it behind to rest

Let the world carry on

Without me




I listen to the same songs

Over and over again

Because nothing else

Is loud enough to drown out the pain




Oh, to be a kid again

With no need to overthink

To see the light again

Without drowning myself in the kitchen sink




I want to leave behind

This heavy heart

And fly away to my neverland

Living my life inside a hopeless daydream




I want to be held in your arms

As you talk with that calming voice

So I drift off

And fall asleep
I think this was a vent, woopsies
I’m sick and tired of not being able to show the real me,
Pretending to be ‘she’.
‘She’ who has the perfect body,
‘She’ who can audition for the Kardashians probably.
‘She’ who everyone wants to date,
But then again, ‘she’ who everyone hates.
So it concludes i’m happy that i’m not ‘she’,
But everyone night, in the back of my mind
I wish I wasn’t me.
I can't
I can't
I can't
I can't do this
Its too much
Its too
much.
It's
too
much.

I can't think -
I'm forced to think, to think think think about it
All at once
Not at all
I can't -
I don't know
Do you?
Do you know what this is
supposed to be?
Is?
What is -
the meaning
of
everything
nothing
me?

I'm just so
everything
all at once
My mind is broken up into its smallest fragments
scrambling to get it all done,
all in this frantic insane mess, and yet
its so unclear to you
how unable I am.

I'm sorry
I'm sorry
I'm sorry I'msorryI'msorry -
I'msorryIcouldn'tbeeverythingyouwantedmetobe,
I'msorrythatIdidn'­ttryhardenough
I'msorrythatIforgothowtodream
I'msorrythatI'mjusta­kid
I'msorry
I'm sorry.
I'm
Sorry.

I just can't.
Malia Jan 14
“Thanks for asking, but 𝑰
am fine, just a little tired.
𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 complain, you know?
Everybody gets a bit
stressed sometimes, what with
all that we’ve got to 𝒅𝒐.
It’s not like 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 is any different
than any other day, any other person.
𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 somewhere has it far
worse than I do, so don’t feel sorry
for me. No, 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 your compassion
for a person who really needs it, not
𝒎𝒆.”
a cry for help is often hidden in plain sight. reread. relisten. you might find something you didn’t see before.
Emma Jan 14
Truth folds, disappearing into silence.
The weight of grief clings,
hands flicker, click-click, searching for light.

Choices drown in still waters,
shadows ripple, fingers snap-snapping,
an ache that hums through the air.

The void opens, whispering her name.
She steps forward, untethered,
into the shape of the unknown.
I posted this earlier but couldn't find it, so I'll try again.
Kuda Bux Jan 14
The carrot and the thread are still
my calves and hooves, motionless
chewing on a bitter pill
eyes take in the stillness

A slight neigh to sigh a sigh
the usual sounds and usual grunts
the clicking tongue, a pitch too high
pavement castanet-ing
under screaming sun

The carrot and the thread begin to sway
my calves and hooves, they shake
chewing on spit and year-old hay
eyes that want to take

A step and a clack, forward I move
A step and a clack, the carrot too
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