The speaker of this single line, signed only "kin," feels they have been reduced to something other people have to deal with. "I'm not a person anymore" is a flat, almost tired statement, and the shift to "I'm a problem" shows how that loss happens: a person has feelings and a history, while a problem is something to be managed, fixed, or avoided. The speaker seems to see themselves through other people's eyes, or perhaps through their own harshest ones.
The poem doesn't say why they feel this way, and that gap is part of its effect. The odd spacing before the comma and the lowercase "i'm" make it feel like a quick, unpolished confession, typed rather than carefully composed. The mood is bleak and exhausted, with a quiet note of hurt. There's no anger or drama, just a plain admission that leaves the reader sitting in the silence afterward.