I'm tired.
Hurt.
Bruisedâmy soul unsettled,
weighed down by this quiet storm.
I donât know where to turn,
so I turn to you.
But youâre weren't there.
And so, I suppress it,
because who would care?
Words are said,
but they bounce off me,
light as paperâ
fragile and weightless,
unable to reach the depth inside.
Prying eyes,
muffled sounds,
panic attacks like a vice,
squeezing,
making it hard to breathe.
Suffocating.
This hatred I never wanted,
but it consumes me,
turning my insides to ash.
It feels unbearable,
and yetâ
I canât seem to let it go.
Still, you find ways to make me love,
but you always find a way
to make me hate you more.
Words, actions, truthâ
I see it now,
Crystal clear.
To let go,
I must forgive.
To heal,
I must release.
To grow,
I must love.
To find happiness,
I must love myself.
Iâve accepted my defeat,
because it was never about me.