I send a flood—
words and a piece of me,
wrapped up in pixels,
in the stupid hope
you might notice
the light in my eyes.

But all you see
is the weariness
of my bones.

"you look tired,"
you say,
like that’s all
I’ve got to offer.

Of course, I’m tired.
If you’d ever bothered to listen
to my rants, my chaos,
to all the shit I’ve been carrying—
maybe then you’d know...