Because when words fail, that’s what spills out. Not a plea for answers. Not even a question. Just a truth.

Mom, I’m tired.
Tired of trying to be strong when I feel like I’m crumbling.
Tired of being unseen, unheard.
Tired of pretending I’m okay just so others can stay comfortable.

This isn’t about giving up.
It’s about the weight of keeping going when everything inside is screaming to stop.

Maybe no one will see the pain behind the colors. Maybe they’ll just walk by. But maybe—just maybe—someone will stop.
Someone will feel it.

And in that moment, maybe I won’t be alone.