i’m so tired. 

i just wanna close my eyes

and feel lighter, 

instead of making myself

smaller, smaller, smaller

and grow more addicted to 

the act of disappearance. 

i just want to be enough, 

i want to be worth loving, 

i want to be worth the time of day. 

but i never was, wasn’t i. 

i shut down to keep the

pain away. 

like a scarecrow, standing

“s t r o n g” was not a way of living.

once you lose more, and more

you lose yourself too. 

you want to be lost. 

so your hunger for fading away

increases. i’m starving. 

what the hell good am i. 

at my best, there is 

always something

i do wrong. 

feeling. 

is wrong. 

so i continued

to make myself

so small

that i won’t be 

recognizable. so 

i won’t be

the doormat that

you wipe your feet upon

before entry, and make

your departure known.

over and over.

there will always be

better than me. 

let me sleep. please. 

and when my eyes close, 

maybe you’ll feel 

lighter

too.