Tried and Tired

I am an emotion.

My body begs for distraction, I hate it.

Can't seem to find the right way to express myself fully without hurting other people so instead, I hurt myself. Mentally, I bash myself; I'm never good enough.

Physically, I push myself too far, go until it hurts and then keep going.




My job is good,

my health is good.

I love who I am.

I have great friends

and much more to achieve.

Why is abuse so appealing.

Where does the life you've drained from me go to? When do I get back served time?




The scent of replenishment and life linger in the morning with coffee, a book and the weather channel.

Music, bouncing through my tiny eardrums, louder for full effect, certain songs melodize my blood.

These simple yet always apparant and pleasing attributes of a single day revive me.

I am an emotion.

Revive me.