Poetry

I am

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Like a puddle once dried up

I am no more.

I feel my walls go up as you speak

And all I want to do is scream, but I don’t. I stay silent and hope to become invisible.

I hope you won’t see me and let me be because I can’t take it anymore.

I realize I can’t be around people too much. My introverted self-limits are getting shorter.

And even though you say I’m shutting down, I’m genuinely trying to keep sane.

Because I am tired of wondering if this is what they mean, and once something happens, please deal with it and let it go.

I can’t hold on to that crap too.

I know we’re not the same, and there is only so much I can do to support you before I disappear into my so-called shell.

I know quiet is all I want more than usual this week, and feeling lonely isn’t my issue if I know I will be at peace and breathe.

Because this week felt like a force so intense, I was drained and over-sensitive to the bullshit.

I nodded and drifted in hopes I would be okay, but the battle to relate just wasn’t there anymore.

And I am okay with that, but the space I will enjoy, and maybe the next time we’re in the same room, I won’t be forcing myself to run away.

Written By: Deirdre Stokes Copyrighted ©️ 2023 By Deirdre Stokes

1 thought on “I am”

  1. Nicole Smith – I am in my 40s. I am a mother of 2, wife, and I work at a local family owned restaurant. I love reading and writing. I write poetry and blog to understand myself and the world around me better.
    Nicole Smith says:

    Lovely. I hope you have space and peace.

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