Tired.
He feels it when he left the clinic to go home at night. He feels it when he leaves school with barley passing grades during the day. He feels it when he see another nameless body during the chaos of the month. He feels it when he couldâve spent much time with his friends or canât simply have a conversation with his mom. Itâs always there eating him from the inside out. The stress. The guilt. The undeniable feeling of never being good enough. The tiredness. He was just tired. But with everything happening, with the calls for help that keep ringing in his ear. He just pushes away the tiredness to keep helping. To keep fighting for that person, for his pack, for that good grade, for that suffering creature. For his life. With the world on his shoulders, he just keeps fighting to stand up and not let them win. But the tiredness keeps crawling back, keeps begging to be let in. He canât let it in, canât let it win. So it he keeps fighting, even after the tiredness sinks its claws into him and does everything it can to get attention. He keeps going, with his feelings bottled up and acting like chains. He pulls and tugs on them, silently calling for help.
