Cycle

This cycle is beginning to suffocate

Tighter and tighter it grips

And my neck begins to protest.

It doesn't like being choked.

It doesn't like being quiet.

But here I am

Quiet

Complacent

Suffering

Tired and bored

Tears dragged down my cheeks

It didn't use to be like this

At least I don't think so.

I think I used to be okay

My wallet didn't protest when I went to the store

I didn't used to scream at the TV

The news was just an update of the day

Not a source of panic

I didn't used to cry this much.

I didn't used to be this scared.

This cycle, it continues

And I'm so

Very

Very

Tired.

Of it

Of them

Of the people who don't understand

Who refuse to understand

I'm tired of seeing everything

Everywhere

All the time

These hands on my throat

They're old

Decrepit

Out of touch

Decaying

The hands of a skeleton.

They stink and stretch and bite my flesh

They keep my air from me

But I'm tired of dealing with the status quo

I'm tired of hurting

Of suffering

Of crying

Barely getting by

My hands are on those wrists

Pulling

Twisting

Turning

My teeth are grit

They can't hold on forever

And I'm at the end of my wits