i sometimes wish

i wasn’t me.

it’s too big of a job.

and it’s lonely.

and no one understands

or knows.

and im forced to ask

of people i don’t respect,

or want

and im forced

to be,

with people

that hurt me.

and i can’t leave well enough alone,

because i have to make things better

and i have to do what’s right

and I have to be good

all the goddamn time.

and it’s exhausting.

and i really could use

something for me,

one of these days..

and i know i could have

something at least,

but I’m picky.

probably too picky,

cause it leaves me stripped

and bare

and lonelier then ever..

making sure that everyone’s alright

and never being

alright

myself.