I am tired.
Tired of folding my heart into smaller shapes
just so you'd find it easier to hold.
Tired of swallowing my pain
...
I wanted to be a prefect—
not for the applause,
not for the title pressed into fabric,
but because it felt like proof
...
I smile in rooms where I'm barely seen,
A whisper behind every louder scene.
The friend they remember when no one's around,
A voice they reach for when theirs makes no sound.
...
There were nights I sealed my heart like a tomb,
Burying every prayer beneath the rubble of doubt.
Still, You came—
soft as the dawn,
...
Your mouth finds that secret place on my neck
Where my pulse betrays every hidden want,
And in that moment,
I forget every name but yours.
...
Olorunkemi is a a student of Air force secondary school. Born on the 4th November,2004. She describes herself as one who struggle to find her space among crowds.)
Watch My Heart Burn.
I am tired.
Tired of folding my heart into smaller shapes
just so you'd find it easier to hold.
Tired of swallowing my pain
until it tasted like nothing.
I gave you everything—
my midnight confessions,
my unguarded laughter,
the softest parts of me
I never showed anyone.
I called you family,
I tagged you as a friend,
but to you I'm just an acquaintance—
a flicker in your crowded sky,
a disposable warmth you never meant to keep.
You don't see the nights
I lay awake carving your name
into the walls of my trust,
how I waited for you to look at me
like I mattered.
You don't see the ache—
the way it coils in my ribs
like a nest of thorns.
I am tired of the quiet betrayals,
the careful distance,
the way your eyes slide past mine
as if I am something you can't be bothered to remember.
Look at me now—
I am an inferno of disappointment.
I am a ruin built from every promise you broke.
So watch my heart burn—
watch the flames lick up every memory,
every fragile hope I once carried for us.
This fire is my final confession.
Let it scorch your indifference.
Let it consume the lie
that this ever felt like love.
I am done pretending.
I am done bleeding for you.
All that's left is this raw, red agony—
and the ashes you can never sweep away.
I gave the softest parts of me to people who only knew how to hold silence. Now I keep my warmth for those who stay, even when the fire dims. — Kareem Olorunkemi