Trapped in my own head

too tired to heal

I sat on the bathroom floor,
tears falling quietly down my face,
red drops pooling at my feet,
each one heavier than the last.

A first aid kit in my trembling hands,
filled with gauze, stitches, bandages-
tools for mending skin,
yet powerless to patch a fractured spirit.

I watched the red seep and spread,
wondering if healing was meant for others,
if I could be stitched back together,
or if tonight, I was too tired to try.