The intent is always there
But putting the pen to paper is like hands.
Hands closing in around your throat.
Suffocating.
You push. And fight
Thinking “I’m just trying to write”
You put the pen down.
The hands that were never there disappear
But you’re still suffocating.

i am tired.
i am tired of seeing the way people are unrightfully treated.
i am tired of sitting around and pretending that you have not affected me.
i am tired of hiding problems and tucking them away like it's no big deal.  
i am tired of feeling awful.
i am tired of being sad.
i am tired of not being able to order my own food at a restaurant for the fear that someone will judge me if i stutter. which i will.
i am tired of a lot of things.
"how are you?" a kind acquaintance asks.
"tired," i immediately shoot back.
a popular response.
fraught with worries.
drowned by despair.
devoid of energy.
too tired to sleep.
"how are you feeling? what's up?"
you don't care.
you're just trying to be friendly.
and i'm too tired to be friendly back.
physically speaking, i'm exhausted.
mentally speaking, i'm distressed and exhausted and anxious.
i'm tired of lying.
i'm tired of trying.
i'm tired of sighing.
i feel like i'm dying.
-alc
4/4/2017

A ball will be bounced and will be coming back,
When you throw it on the wall.
A ball will be coming back to you soon,
When you throw it on the wall with a full speed.
A ball will lose its elasticity,
When you do this continuously.
A ball won't be comeback and it'll fall on the floor after this.
And it will find another way and will run on the floor.
Everything is a limit.
Hurting a lot can cause losing an elasticity.
Everything has a limit.