There’s no gun to my head

No addiction to be fed

I’m just here waiting

Not commiserating

I’m not bored, I’m done

There’s no fight to be won

Pour myself out for what?

You think you know, but

I don’t like playing pretend

I’m waiting for an end

Allow me to assert:

An end to the hurt

An end to the eyes

And all of the lies

To the whispers I hear

And the future I fear

My wish is no longer bliss

It’s to be gone from this

Whether smooth or rough

It can’t come soon enough