I’m the problem solver,
I’m the instigator;
I’m the impediment
And the facilitator.
I’m the middle
And I’m the end.
I convey the truth,
Even when I pretend.
I’m loved;
I am rejected.
I am kissed,
I’m left dejected.
I yearn for hugs,
Though I am held.
My words are lost,
Even when yelled.
I contribute little;
But every decision is mine;
I have it all;
But I am running out of time.
I’m the puzzle;
I am the clue;
I can be just me –
And yet a part of you.
I’m tired of wanting to be loved,
Of waiting for the men I love to see me,
Of waiting for them to return,
And to leave.
I’m tired of second guessing myself,
Of not seeing myself as worthy,
Of waiting for acceptance
From a dead father.
I’m tired of thinking life can be lived,
Of losing people I love to death,
Or to life.
I’m tired of people being people,
Of losing the animals I love.
I’m tired of buying clothes
To ease my vanity.
I’m tired of waking and sleeping,
Of hoping and loving,
Of losing, and of believing
In promises.
I’m tired of giving chances
To those who don’t understand them.
I’m tired of eating and gaining weight,
Of falling sick and growing thin,
I’m tired of my heart,
I’m tired of breathing.
I’m tired of me.
It starts with little things:
A shout in a conversation,
A caress shrugged off,
A turning away in sleep,
Or a small promise
One forgot to keep.
It starts small:
A forgotten holiday,
Or a hug once a day,
A letter never written,
Or a word one needed to say.
A refusal to touch
After all,
Speaks more than words
By not sleeping much.
It starts quietly:
No great feeling of loss,
Just a tingling warning,
A squinting of the eye,
The littlest lie,
And then there is
Destiny’s pulling back,
As it starts to die.
Hearts Still Care 
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