by Chloe Lee
I’m tired of numbers.
Of waking up to a clock
and falling asleep to one.
Of calculating how many hours I got,
how many I missed,
how many I still need.
They are everywhere.
Calories on a granola bar,
digits glowing on a bathroom scale,
percentages on tests that don’t ask
how long I studied
or how much I cried.
They tell me to get 8 hours of sleep,
drink 2 liters of water,
walk 10,000 steps,
score a 1600,
earn a 4.0,
weigh less than 120,
but have more than 100,000 followers
if I ever want to be seen.
Every day is a spreadsheet.
Every breath, a number
I either hit or fall short of.
How many likes?
How many notifications?
How many unread emails
before I’m behind again?
They ask me how many colleges I applied to,
how many APs I took,
how many leadership positions I held—
as if ambition can be measured
in bullet points.
Even joy gets numbered—
“How fun was it, on a scale from 1 to 10?”
Even pain.
“What’s your pain level today?”
And when I say “I’m tired,”
they ask:
“Tired how much?”
As if exhaustion
needs to be rated
before it matters.
But I don’t want to be measured today.
I don’t want to be counted, compared,
ranked, sorted, or averaged.
I want to exist
without being tracked.
I’m not your steps,
your score,
your salary,
your sleep cycle.
I’m not your countdown.
I’m not your checklist.
I’m tired of numbers
because I’ve spent too long
trying to become one
you’d be proud of.
Chloe Lee is a thoughtful student and creative thinker who uses writing and storytelling to express real-world emotions and ideas. She aims to inspire others through honest, impactful work.
January House Literary Journal 
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