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Exhausted, really.

I am tired
of being tired? Predictable.
Of doubt and lies
and myself.
I am tired of worrying about feelings –
mine, yours, everyone’s.
I am tired of disappointment;
why can’t life be easy?
Easier, at least.
What dictates this infinite cycle of good, bad, ugly, uglier, ugliest, alright, good, bad, ugly, uglier…
It’s stupid, that’s what it is.
It’s needless.
All I’m asking is that this be one hair easier.
Simpler.
Sans complication and random problems to last a lifetime.
Lifetime. This lifetime is filled with euphemisms masking truth.
Truth. One truth: I am tired.
Exhausted, really.
And it’s my fault for wanting to please
them, you, but mostly myself.
Why please myself? I doubt I ever will.
Doubt: something else I’m tired of.
Exhausted, really.



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