Exhausting

I find it exhausting, This relay of information. Each person is composed of certain facts, Certain stories, A different and unique composition. The fairytale is that one day, We let one special someone, Read our whole composition, But this is not true, And that is why it is so exhausting. You meet someone, You tell them your name, Favorite color, Birthday, Favorite place to travel, And as time passes, you tell the more, You tell them about your soul, But more importantly, you give them a piece of it. ----------------------------- Then you meet someone new, Same story follows, But instead of giving them a piece of your soul, Like you think you’re doing, You’re just giving them the same piece, You gave the last person! And soon the whole world, Has read one page of your composition, And you’re left, Sitting there. Torn because, You have a whole story no one bothered to read, But You also have a missing page You can never get back. An incomplete story is what you become. Exhausting.