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I'm Not Tired, I'm Eroding.
<p>I’m not tired.. </p><p>not the kind sleep can fix.</p><p>I’m the kind of tired that sits in your chest and says,</p><p><em>“Yeah, we live here now.”</em></p><p><br/></p><p>School didn’t make it easier.</p><p>Assignments keep multiplying like bacteria,</p><p>and every lecturer swears their course is the only one we’re taking.</p><p>It’s funny,</p><p>until it isn’t.</p><p><br/></p><p>My friends think I’m quiet because I’m shy.</p><p>No, babe.</p><p>I’m quiet because my energy is on airplane mode.</p><p>Only emergency functions available.</p><p><br/></p><p>And the jokes?</p><p>Oh, I crack them so nobody notices I’m cracking too.</p><p>I’m the “funny friend” with sad eyes.</p><p>I’m the one who says <em>“I’m fine”</em></p><p>with a voice that sounds like it’s buffering.</p><p><br/></p><p>I’m not tired.</p><p>I’m eroding.</p><p>Slowly.</p><p>The way cliffs fall into the sea</p><p>a little piece at a time,</p><p>washed away by every <em>“Are you sure you’re okay?”</em></p><p>and every <em>“You’ll be fine”</em> said by people who don’t even listen.</p><p><br/></p><p>Some days I feel creative,</p><p>like I’m painting my pain in pretty colours.</p><p>Other days?</p><p>I’m just a blank canvas hanging in a classroom</p><p>full of students pretending they aren’t drowning.</p><p><br/></p><p>There’s a fear in me I can’t name... </p><p>the kind that whispers,</p><p><em>“What if you never get back to who you used to be?”</em></p><p>But then I laugh,</p><p>because honestly?</p><p>I don’t even remember who that was.</p><p><br/></p><p>Between the pressure,</p><p>the deadlines,</p><p>the friends who drift,</p><p>the friends who pretend,</p><p>the jokes I use as life jackets,</p><p>and the tears I don’t have time to cry...</p><p><br/></p><p>I’ve realized something:</p><p><br/></p><p>I didn’t “break down.”</p><p>I wore down.</p><p><br/></p><p>So no…</p><p>I’m not tired.</p><p>I’m eroding.</p><p>But at least I’m doing it gracefully</p><p>with my GPA in one hand,</p><p>my sanity in the other,</p><p>and a smile sharp enough to hide every crack.</p><p><br/></p><p>Because sometimes,</p><p>survival looks like humor.</p><p>Sometimes,</p><p>healing looks like pretending.</p><p>And sometimes,</p><p>the strongest people are the ones falling apart silently…</p><p>but still showing up anyway.</p>
I'm Not Tired, I'm Eroding.
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Blushtales
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