again

Oh my God, I’ve forgotten how to breathe without bargaining for air. My head is loud, but not with thoughts — with storms. And I am so tired. Not tired like sleep will fix it. Tired like my bones hum with surrender. Tired like grief that doesn’t belong to one moment, but to all of them stacked on top of me. Oh my God, no flame can save me now. The cigarettes are ash, the pack is empty — like me. Again. Oh my Lord, These sins wear my name. Not proudly, just persistently. And I know it’s wrong, but it’s written into my hands now, and they won’t let go — again. This cage… isn't built of bars, but of days I swore I’d change, of nights that swallowed me whole, and voices that whispered: "This is who you are.” Not this time, I said. Not this time. But it was -again