Tell Me What to Do
Some days I’m too tired to steer my own life. Too tired to decide what to eat, when to sleep, how to keep the edges from unraveling. The weight of every little decision makes me want to shut down.
I don’t need rescuing. I need direction. Someone steady enough to step in without asking permission. Someone who can see I’m flailing and just…take over.
Tell me it’s time to get in bed. Tell me I’ve done enough for today. Tell me I can hand it over and let go.
That’s not control—it’s being kept. Belonging to someone who knows what to do with me. And right now, I can’t think of anything I want more.











