Itsmehhh

And I always think about you at night,
especially at 11:11,
because you've always been my wish.
My wish is just for one more conversation,
one more hug, one more kiss. I just wish for you.
And it's a hard thing to explain how my thoughts are overwhelmed and how I wish all these thoughts could be withheld,
but it's useless to hope for such.

See, because as I lay there at night,
I think about you.
I always do, and really,
I don't even mean to.
But see, I lay there closing my eyes,
and you're the first thing I see.
I see you smiling in the picture of everything I wanted us to be.
And really, I can't escape such thoughts.
But I forever know that that image is false because there's no more us.

But I wish my messages would go through so I could talk to you one more time.
But hoping for such feels like a crime,
but I can't help but wish. I can't help but picture one more conversation,
one more hug, one more kiss.
I just wish for anything from you to take me away from this reality that you made true.
So once those familiar digits appear, I'll wish to relive that entire year."

There is a specific kind of exhaustion that belongs to those who have spent years just trying to survive.

It’s not the kind of tired that can be fixed by a good night’s sleep. It’s a deep, cellular fatigue born from keeping your guard up for too long, from navigating storms you never asked for, and from carrying weights that were never yours to bear.

If you are reading this and you know exactly what that weight feels like—if your past contains chapters of trauma, loss, betrayal, or systemic hardship—this is for you. This is for all of us who are trying to learn how to live, not just exist.