Everything feels heavier
when the weather turns cold-
my chest tight,
my throat aching,
my mind tired.
But winter is also a cover,
a quiet excuse.
I can hide under blankets
and let the tears fall,
and no one will ask,
because shivering
looks the same as crying.
I try reaching out-
"how was your day?"
"want to get coffee?"-
hoping someone will notice.
But they don't.
Maybe I'm too quiet.
Maybe I learned not to say
how bad it really is.
So I stay in the cold,
letting it numb me.
I don't care if I get sick,
don't care if it hurts.
Some days just staying alive
is all I can focus on,
and everything else
falls away.
YOU ARE READING
Trapped in my own head
PoésieShe is an outcast. She finds it easier to express what she feels in the form of writing. Whether it is poems, letters or long texts. These are poems that she writes trying to describe how it feels to live with certain mental health issues, in a worl...
