Faint.

Untamed hair to my waist,

Small brown eyes to the ground.

Cold thin hands tucked away,

Big lanky feet; don’t make a sound.

I wish to walk in life;

Surely silent, sacredly sane.

Because I know the truth is

I am simply

Just

Undesirably faint.

Like a brush thats been used too many times,

wasted on meaningless paintings when I had messages to write.

There’s no more paint left for me to draw my chaos,

So they all just believe my pain was always

tame and small,

Withered and worn,

Silent, and sickly

Faint.