I’m tired.
I’m tired of drinking alone,
And being okay with that.
I’m tired.
I’m tired of loving children,
And knowing I’ll never be strong enough to try to have my own,
Again.
I’m tired.
I’m tired of looking at love stories,
And seeing where they fail,
Where I failed,
Again and again.
I’m tired.
I’m tired of finding people who admire me,
After the fact,
When there’s jack shit to do about it,
When no one is brave enough to say anything,
Until it doesn’t matter anyway.
I love my children,
And I’ve never seen them,
Other than their blood,
That should tell you enough about me.
