I’m tired of the feign love.
I’m tired of the feign friendships.
I’m tired of being let down everytime.
I’m tired of being hurt.
I’m tired of trying.
I’m tired of pretending to be fine when I’m not.
I’m tired of my flaws.
I’m tired of feeling broken, damaged, worthless.
I’m tired of letting people know I exist.
I’m tired of being a third wheel.
I’m tired of being attached to people.
I’m tired of letting people in my lives and burning me up.
I’m tired of the fake promises.
I’m tired of all the lies.
I’m tired of being treated like shit.
I’m tired of holding it all in.
Yes. And now, I’m tired of being tired.
I have connected a lot with this poem. Just thought of sharing this.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.