Untitled

Untitled

I’m  tired, so tired
I’m tired of having to fake that I’m OK
To spare anyone having to actually acknowledge my grief.

I’m tired of the tears, hiding them and shedding them.

I’m tired, so tired of wanting my family around me, of wanting to grieve with them, when in reality I have to skulk  around the borders of their highly built walls that only they can seek refuge in while they abandon me to my solitary grief.

I’m tired of not understanding why I always have to deal with things alone.

I’m tired, so tired of god always taking the people, the very few people who have understood me
I’m tired, so tired of wondering what’s the point of breathing? While everyone sees just what they want to see but never actually seeing the real me.