Between the ones who drain my light
And those I'd bleed for in the name of right,
I'm tired.
Worn thin from folding my edges
To fit into spaces that don’t hold me.
It’s already a battle—
I'm tired
Wrestling a nature that longs for silence,
For the stillness of being alone.
I bore too easily—
Of things, of places,
And yes, of people too.
So bonding?
It’s like tying air into knots.
I try, it's a price to pay for aiming higher
But it slips.
Some things don't change,
Even when I wish they would.
Even when I pray I could.
And the hardest part—
The most brutal weight—
Is knowing
I never meant to hurt them.
Nor myself