I have loved this place as much as I can.
I have hated this place as much as I can.
And I feel tired;
I feel exhausted.
This is the last time…
It’s the last time I say it’s the last time.
It’s the last time I say enough.
The last time I tolerate anything less.
The last time I settle.
And I’ll slip away if I must,
And everyone else can stay;
And I’ll be the one floating away,
Because this is not love,
And this is not hate.
It’s the numbness in between.
The nothingness of it all.
The motionlessness of it all.
The crippling silence of it all.
Of being okay with things that are not okay.
I’ll crawl away if I have to.
On broken legs if I have to.
I can’t be the only one,
Desperate for more,
Desperate for something better.
I know the feeling…
The feeling of being wounded,
And not wanting to move.
It’s easier to lay still.
It’s easier to stay quiet.
I’ve learned all there was to learn here.
I’ve reaped all there was to reap here.
I’ve given all there was to give here.
There’s nothing left to say,
I’ll turn around and walk away.
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