What am I, but Human?

What am I, but human?

Why am I expected to be so much?
My complex mind consumes me,
how am I ever to know how much is enough?
How much anxiety do I face before I refuse to take anymore?
How many tears to drown my cheekbones,
how many tears to make my weary eyes sore?

What am I, but human?

What else am I to be?
If there was another option,
then believe me, I’d flee.
I’d flee from all my worries-
I’d flee from my regrets.
Not only would I flee from myself,
I’d flee from those who love me best.