Tired

The world of silence anchors my chest

A storm bottled in the bones-

How do i escape this echo chamber

Where even my breath feels borrowed?

This place once called home,

Now hums like a furnace -

Walls whisper in tongues i don't speak.

This isn't safety.

its purgatory stitched into drywall.

I want out-

but every exit is locked

with keys i forged with fear.

Every choice :

A papercut i never let heal.

They bled ink.

Now I'm drowning i drafts of myself

i never meant to write.

How do i shrink myself

to fit in a world built for giants.

With perfect resume's and polished lies?

No armor this time.

Just soft skin and shattered calm.

The real world?

it growls behind closed doors.

And I'm barefoot.

Sleep tastes like sand-

Grains slipping through a cracked hourglass.

I rest,

but the exhaustion is fossil- deep.

Too many clocks.

Too many mouths.

Too many versions of me

To keep alive.