Poems and Such

Tired

Are you tired of me?
A question I ask myself at the dead of night, when birds have gone to sleep and the city is tight
Are you tired of me?
A question, so simple and yet it brings so much thoughts.
For I know I'm too much sometimes, I wave around with my hands and talk loudly. I cannot help it, I've tried explaining and yet, they look at me.
I know I should not care for the looks, for they are insignificant in the grand scheme of my life and yet I find myself intrigued. What am I doing so wrong that people look at me like so?
I know I'm too much sometimes. I pour my heart out with a laugh, pretending that everything I say does not scratch me. Like the fictional character would say ‘ I laugh at the face of danger ’, i take that to heart. I laugh for danger is the reality that I refuse to acknowledge.
It's cowardly, but I'm too much and a coward too.
Are you tired of me?
I wonder at the dead of night, staring at my light blue ceiling.
And I know that some of you are, but I cannot do anything about it. It makes me sad, sometimes, seeing people go. But I know I should not surround myself with toxicity, for it would bring me pain beyond repair.
Another thing I would laugh about as I tell it. Pretending to be over it, but it does not work like that.
Are you tired of me?
I ask myself as I stay alone in my room, knowing I ask too much of people. Attention, energy and smiles are the least I want and I need to function.
And that's too much, I believe so.
So in the end I know you are tired of me.