I feel something moving inside me,
a weight without a name.
I call it sadness.
I call it loneliness.
I call it darkness-
though none of those words
are deep enough to hold it.
I've tried explaining it to everyone,
handing pieces of myself away,
but their understanding never reaches
the loneliness still growing in my chest.
It feels like being imprisoned
by my own mind,
walls closing in,
air thinning,
breath becoming work.
I've been trying.
I've been fighting.
I swear I have.
But the longer I stay alive,
the further down I fall-
not loudly,
not suddenly,
just deeper,
quieter,
alone.
YOU ARE READING
Every part of me
PoetryThis book took years to begin. Not because I lacked words, but because I lacked the courage to open my heart. To my readers- this is my soul, laid bare. Every page holds a piece of me: my vulnerability, my joy, the moments I loved deeply, and the gr...
