Tired

I’m tired. When I say that, people ask me, “How much sleep did you get?” They tell me, “Go to bed earlier then!” I joke and say that I try, or I lie and say about 6 hours. But in reality, I barely get 3, if I’m lucky. I’m physically tired, but when I say “I’m tired”, I don’t mean it in that way. I mean I’m exhausted. I don’t want to get up in the morning. I want to sleep, but I can’t. I have no motivation. I have to fake my smile. I have to hide my tears, from the voices in my head. I have to force myself to work, so I don’t fail. When people ask how I am doing, I tell them “I’m fine!” and give them the brightest smile I can muster. I joke about my sadness, as a way to cope. I have no motivation. I have no real happiness. I play a part, like my life is a show. I put on a performance, for the people to enjoy. I play the dumb friend, so I can keep being the “funny” one. I smile at everyone, and treat everyone nicely, so I can stay the people pleaser I have always been. It’s tiring. It’s ing exhausting. I have no one to talk to. I feel nothing. I feel empty. There is nothing in my heart. I care so deeply, but it hurts when I’m just used. People like me because I’m kind, but they don’t know how I really feel. When someone likes me, and I don’t reciprocate those feelings, I pretend, and date them, so I don’t break their heart. I know they may find out, but I don’t want people hurt because of my actions. I’ve hurt people though, and I hold on to the guilt like a lifeline. I take it out on myself. As I drag the blade, and watch the red flow, it feels so good, and it makes me forget, for even just a moment, the mental torment. I’m so drained, that I feel as though I’m just… Numb. Numb to the happiness. Numb to the sadness. Numb to the anger. “Numb” to the pain. I want to feel better, but I don’t know how. I have lost the one person, who gave me the motivation. I have no one. I’m alone. I write these poems, to hopefully feel something. Though it never works, it’s the only thing I can do. Only way I can talk, only way I can let out the pain. I need help, to stop feeling this drained. But I can’t get help, and I never ask, because I will always just be a burden with my problems, and my thoughts. I’ll always feel tired, and nothing will ever change that, no matter how hard I try.