I am tired.

A smog has been filling my chest for years,

A poisonous cloud—a metaphoric second-hand smoke.

I inhaled too much of the world,

And coughed up all the effort I could give.

My eyes blink blearily with mourning and grief.

Mourning for a girl I no longer am,

And grief for the woman I grew to be.

I'd like to apologize to my mother

Whom I promised I would try to heal.

I'm sorry,

But I am tired.

I used to be fond of the smell of cigarettes.

They reminded me of my father's friends

Who'd sneak me pocket money for sweets.

But now,

Bitterly,

I am reminded of how frail humans are,

And how easily their lungs blacken.

I am tired.

I don't have it in me to continue this life,

And I'm sorry to everyone I am leaving behind.

You are stronger than I ever got to be.

Goodbye.