I am tired. Tired of pretending. Straining to be happy to hide the ongoing misery. Containing the anger floating steadily inside like a ticking bomb. Tired of the everyday tasks. Servicing everyone else’s needs. Putting mine to the side. Fighting to hold back for the sake of keeping peace. Faking the sanity. Keeping up appearances. Tired of the endless dread. Knowing nothing will change. Feeling like a failure. Defeated. Broken. Miserable. Trying to change. Trying to be better and never succeeding. I’m tired of holding on. Dangling by a thread. Just wanting to let go. Just wanting to be free. Tired of being tired. Of arguing. Of bargaining. Of explaining. I don’t know how to make it stop. Without losing everything. Without giving in to this dark feeling. This enticing escape. The only way I know how to wake.
I stare at the bare trees along these streets. Some houses run down but some stand tall and pretty. The potholes in the pavement shake my car and wake me from my hazy thoughts. A cracked window and a wind tunnel in my ear. The air feels cold but the sunshine warms me. There is beauty in it’s imperfection, and maybe I can relate. Tiny buds forming in the ground on this cool April morning. I carry my routine day in, day out The comfort of familiarity. And the craving for more. Like Tom Petty’s “Wildflowers”, the need to be free. Holding this town like a blanket, security and warmth. The classic go or stay. Take a chance or be a coward. The clouds like loose cotton swallowing me whole. Like magic. Watch me disappear.
Searching for a pill to **** the pain of thought. An internal battle I have fought for so long but will never triumph. Is there a ledge or an empty stairwell? And if I fall, can I close my eyes and feel nothing at all? Someone out there must have found the way. Bothered by the inconvenience of life. The disturbance of a beating heart. Is there a blade that causes no skin to bleed? Is there a rope to feel soft and warm around my neck? A bottle of poison so sweet to drink. Does anyone know? Maybe a pillow pressed hard against my face will be a breath of pure fresh air. A bullet to remove the migraine from my brain. A knife to the heart to stop the pain in my chest. Someone please answer. Give me your best recommendation. I’ll be waiting.
Is this a slow death? Every breath, Is anger and pain, And acting insane. Patience lost, Arms crossed, Stick in the mud, Boiling blood, Ignored cries, Dizzy eyes, Spinning thoughts, Stomach in knots. Hear me call, Or let me fall. Secrets to keep. Bury them deep.
Two AM and here I am. Awake and thinking once again. A cat’s meow, a child’s cry. Clicking heater, windy sky. Squinty eyes in phone’s blue light. Texts from earlier in the night. Confused by thoughts that make no sense Too tired for self-defense. Ignore, delete, move on. But no. In my mind those words echo. Is it sarcasm or anger? Am I safe or in danger? Heavy heart and eyes that well. These tears feel real but I can’t tell. This has gone on long enough. You cannot have hate without first love.
Do you think I’m unaware? More importantly, Do you think I care? That look in your eyes. I know it well. And I know your lies. Do you think I can’t tell? But it’s fine. Because I’m doing the same. And you know I am. It’s not like I have shame. At least I can be honest to you. At least I can confess. Maybe not to everyone, but you know everything, more or less. So don’t blow smoke up my ***, boy. I know that look. I’m onto you. I read you like a book. Just tell me. I won’t be mad. If you only knew what I do When he makes me sad.