no reason.

i'm tired.
people ask me what's wrong; it bounces off.
do i need to say?
can't you see it in my hollow eyes
hear it in my breaking voice?
i'm sure you know it more than i do.

i cannot answer, for words fail.
chest is heavy, air is thick.
give me the words, speak my mind.
i know this is too much to ask, but
is it more or less than the price
of a shoulder to lean on or
a steady embrace?

one hand after the other,
grasping onto crumbling dirt
slipping through my weak, broken fingers
as i struggle to climb up the side of the molehill.
i am neither falling nor rising.
both seem better options than hanging
in a comatosed state of equilibrium
waiting for something.