I am beyond tired.
Not the kind of tired that sleep can fix,
Not the kind of weary that a weekend can heal.
This is the marrow-deep exhaustion
Of carrying a country on my back
While it pretends I do not exist.
I am a woman in a world
That calls itself free
But only for the chosen,
A world that shouts “liberty”
While locking the doors
And throwing away the keys
For those who don’t fit
The mold of the powerful.
I am overwhelmed by headlines
That drip like acid on my skin:
Another law, another ban,
Another family torn apart,
Another child lost to despair,
Another leader-
Monster in a suit-
Who cannot see my humanity
Or yours
Or theirs.
I am exhausted by the noise,
By the blanket statements
Of friends, of family,
Who shrug and say,
“That’s just how it is,”
As if the world is not burning
Beneath our feet.
I am tired of dues and fees
For the poor,
Rewards for the rich
Who inherit the world
Like a birthright,
As if they built it
With their own hands
And not on the backs
Of the invisible.
I am tired of the mockery,
Of other countries laughing at us
At this place that once promised dreams,
A country that claims to offer hope
But instead deports it,
That rips children from arms
And calls it policy,
That makes people disappear
With the stroke of a pen.
I am tired of the silence,
Of voices stripped away,
Of words we are not allowed to say-
Diversity, woman, race-
As if naming the truth
Could make it less real.
I am tired of the fear,
Of laws that threaten
To send children
To countries they have never known,
To places they may not survive,
Of a world where even birthright
Is not enough to belong.
I am tired for our children,
Who are growing up
In a world without patience,
Without compassion,
Where one in five
Has thought about leaving
Before their lives have even begun.
I am tired of the helplessness,
Of knowing I cannot fix this,
Of feeling the weight
Of every broken system,
Every cruel decision,
Every act of violence
Against hope.
I am tired.
We are all tired.
I am scared.
We are all scared.
I am worried,
And I do not know
If there is a way out
But I will not stop speaking,
I will not stop feeling,
I will not stop loving
Even when love feels like
A radical act of rebellion.
I am beyond tired
But I am still here.
And so are you.
