Tired.

I’m tired.

Not “need-a-nap” tired.

Not “school-was-long” tired.

I’m tired in a way that reaches all the way down to my ribs.

I don’t sleep much anymore.

I stay up listening.

Not for music.

Not for something peaceful.

But for the screech of her tires across the road.

Because I’ve learned that pain has a sound.

And silence doesn’t always mean safety.

I don’t even know what rest is supposed to feel like.

My body never lets go.

There’s always one more worry, one more “what if,”

One more hour waiting for the worst.

And somehow, I still get up every day

Still chase my dreams.

Still pretend I’m okay.

But I’m tired.

So tired.

CosmicNova

TX

13 years old

More by CosmicNova

  • Two Birds and No Stone

    Don’t kill my birds.

    Tommy pays taxes.

    April runs a side hustle selling cursed bath bombs on Etsy.

    They have dreams.

    They have a 401k.

    They just bought a tiny house in a haunted forest

  • Thin Walls

    The house breathes heavy.
    Shadows louder than footsteps.
    A slammed door echoes like thunder,
    but we pretend it’s just the wind again.

    Dinner gets cold while silence sits warm.
    Mama stirs her coffee like nothing’s wrong.