exhaustion

I’m so tired. Living exhausts me, day to day.

I understand privation, now more than ever. I had everything taken from me because I look strange*. *Which is to say, I exist outside a meaningless mathematical mean. How silly a thing about which to be concerned?

As to whether or not I get to keep my everything now, remains to be seen.

I’m so fucking tired of telling the tale. I’m so fucking tired of remembering it was real. I’m so fucking tired of nightmares with police.

I am so fucking tired… tired of smiling abuse. Tired of dreading doorbells.

So tired of this, so tired of them, especially.

Old names and wrong genders grate like a hair shirt. So tired of smiling and silent abuse.

I get it. You wish I wasn’t here, wish I wasn’t strong, wish I was not real. I am, though.

You hate me. That’s fine. I don’t really care about you. Just, it’s the way you are. You are so fucking exhausting.

Fuck you, Arkansas. Fuck you.

Don’t even get me started on Oklahoma.