I AM TIRED

I am usually able

to find the words to express my feelings

but today is different.

I do not know what to say

or how to say it.

When I try to speak,

a million things fight to come out of my mouth,

the hustle and fray resulting

in a loud, agonising cry.

And when I try to write,

a million painful thoughts invade my mind,

painful emotions well up

and the only thing that touches the paper

are the hot tears running down my cheek.

I AM TIRED!

My entire body feels

like it is in an extended inhalation.

Nobody told me to breathe out,

And I fear that if I give myself permission

it will be my last breath.

I worry about my life,

About my well-being

About the well-being of my child.

It has been many years of trying,

of struggling to break through and break even.

So many semblances of the light

at the end of the tunnel

That turned out to be dead ends.

Keep trying, they say,

But it is all so futile

that I might as well have been still.

I am tired

of being the one always in need,

of being the one always in shame,

of being the cautionary tale mother,

of being the one who needs special medical care,

of being the biggest disappointment.

I know it even if they don't say it to my face.

I worry about my country,

about its future.

About the kidnappings and killings

that have gone unbridled,

So much that we are actively at war.

About all the girls and women

Dying at the hands of their own brothers. Daily.

About the incel culture

That is fast eroding the conscience

And intellect of even grown men.

About the institutions that exist

Only to exploit, torture, and silence the citizens.

I have lost count

of how many times I have explored

the idea of no longer being here.

Once with a bottle of pesticide

that I sat and stared at all night until morning broke.

(It doesn't get realer than that.)

I just could not forsake my offspring.

But as the years go by

and the heaviness thickens,

the body ages,

and the opportunities dwindle,

I cannot help but wonder

if I have outlived my usefulness;

my sell-by date.

Maybe the things I achieved in the past

Were my peak.

And my dream and hopes

Are just a cruel joke from the universe.

I am tired.

Too tired to try again.

Too tired to hear those flowery affirmations.

Too tired to 'think positive thoughts'.

Too tired of being 'strong'.

Too tired to end on a 'happy note'.