I'm Tired
When it's the closest thing to the truth,
But not enough to explain.
The burden, the weight, the crippling pain.
It's not the words that fail me,
or the shame that they carry.
Or the looks, or the sighs,
Or the things they want buried.
It's the grip that tightens as I pull from its grasp.
The stretching, the straining, the wounds from the past.
I know now what's there.
The darkness. The empty. The worthless and hollow.
I bend, and I break. Will I transform from its shadow?
I can't look away, but I don't want to see.
The girl that I was, and all that strength did to me.
Holding her, loving her, helping her breathe.
The chains don't lock, but she's never known free.
Pretend, Pretend, Pretend. Where is she safe?
When there's nothing but noise, nothing but hate.
It mocks and it lies, yet it's the battle I face.
Searching for light, for the truth, for my place.
Not to hide or withdraw, for it's not how we're wired.
So the only response I can give is...
I'm tired
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