Unfinished

They say I’m lazy, that I stress too easily— tell me to give up. But they don’t hear me. My words spill half-formed, then finish themselves in someone else’s mouth while their ears stay asleep. I’m not lazy. Do you know how heavy it is just to stand back up? Even heavier— when the ones I love ask me not to bother. I wish someone would stay long enough to listen. Give me time to untangle the silence and the sad I can’t carry alone.