Weary

Tripping on exhaustion,
A trap snared under my feet.

Without contempt and fully aware,

I step into it gracefully.

Disassembled in a moment,

Sometimes it feels so good

To feel nothing at all.

In this world that is constantly taking.

Is it too much to want simplicity?

Perhaps my soul has grown weary.

Tired of these foolish games.

Tired of the fight that never stops.

"Don't wage wars you can't win, silly girl"

But the fight comes from within.

This soul is old and torn from past connections.

I am a constant contradiction of myself.