Each day I wake, a silent war
No marching drums, no lion’s roar.
Just heavy limbs and hollow eyes,
And dreams that fracture when I rise.

The sun feels distant, cold, and cruel,
Its warmth a lie, its light a tool.
My thoughts, like chains, wrap tight around,
And pull me down without a sound.

Depression waits behind the glass,
It whispers truths that never pass:
"You're worthless now, you'll always be
A weight, a wound, a mockery."

I wear a mask, I play the part,
But cracks run deep within my heart.
They smile and speak I nod along,
While inside me, nothing feels wrong.

Not wrong, not right just dead and still,
A vacant house atop a hill.
And yet I move, and yet I breathe,
While sorrow coils beneath my sleeve.

Some nights, I drown in silent screams,
In battles fought inside my dreams.
But morning comes I stand again,
Still stitched together by my pain.

Not healed. Not whole. Not shining bright.
But dragging shadows into light.
And if I fall, I’ll rise once more,
Though bruised, though bent, though ****** sore.

So let the dark come stake its claim,
I'll face it all, I'll take the flame.
For even if I lose the day,
I fought—I fought—and didn’t stray.

Trapped in a love that won’t release,
Wounds still raw, no sign of peace.
Walls like armor, cold and tight,
Yearning for truth to pierce the night.

Haunted by echoes of whispered lies,
Beneath the silence, the heart still cries.
Shadows dance where hope once grew,
Waiting for light to break on through.

Chains of doubt that bind so strong,
Yet still I cling where I don’t belong.
In the wreckage, I search for grace—
A shattered soul in this empty space.

But somewhere deep, a fire still burns,
A restless flame that twists and turns.
It fights the dark, it breaks the chains,
Refusing to be lost in pain.

Though walls may stand and wounds may bleed,
This love won’t die, it won’t concede.
Waiting for truth to tear apart
The fortress built around my heart.

Don’t ask me if I’m doing fine,
I buried that beneath the line
Where rage once roared, a silence grew,
Now all that’s left is residue.

I used to burn, I used to break,
I screamed until the seams would shake.
But fury fades like all things do
It leaves you cold and hollow too.

You taught me how to bite my tongue,
To swallow pain and stay unsung.
Now every word I don’t release
Becomes a chain that won’t find peace.

I’m not okay, I’m not alive,
I only breathe so I survive.
A statue made from smoke and stone,
A soul that’s tired of breaking alone.

There’s thunder under quiet skin,
A war I fight but never win.
So don’t mistake this vacant face
It’s rage, it’s grief, it’s my disgrace.

But in the ash, a spark remains,
A pulse defiant in my veins.
I’ll rise, not soft, but forged and true
Not who I was, but someone new.

I walk through ruins made up of me,
Fragments of who I used to be.
Every step, a memory’s sting,
Every breath, a shattered thing.

Hope flickers low but will not die,
It hides behind a tearless cry.
I speak to ghosts no one can hear,
And hold my fears like souvenirs.

I am the fire, I am the flood,
A quiet storm beneath the blood.
I smile with lips I’ve taught to lie,
And laugh while breaking down inside.

No map to where I’m meant to go,
No anchor left in all I know.
But still I rise on fractured feet
A heart half-torn, yet incomplete.

If love returns, it must be real,
It must not ask my soul to kneel.
Until then, I will bear the ache
A soul rebuilding from the quake.

There’s a war beneath my skin tonight,
No peace, no pause, no end in sight.
My thoughts collide like crashing seas,
The quiet screams, The begging pleas.

I wear a smile that doesn’t stay,
It slips and fades and melts away.
Each heartbeat’s loud, but never heard
Each hope, a ghost, each truth, a blur.

I trace the scars you cannot see,
Etched deep in places within me.
My chest a cage, my breath a fight,
I dream of calm, but wake to fright.

I question every word I say,
Then curse myself for feeling that way.
I miss the me I used to know
Before the fractures split my core.

And yet still I stand, though the soul is sore,
A soldier lost in love’s long war.

I carry wounds no eyes can see,
Battles fought inside of me.
My armor cracks with every breath,
As I walk a line between life and death.


Yet here I stand, though torn apart
A bleeding shield, a broken heart.

I wear my scars like silent screams,
Dark echoes trapped inside my dreams.
Beneath the cracks, a hollowed beat,
Where pain and shadow coldly meet.

I’ve been a storm, a ruthless sea,
Drowning in my own debris.
Each bruise a chain, each fall a scar
A prisoner behind bars.

I bend but break, I bleed unseen,
A fragile ghost trapped in between.
Worn and shattered, still I stand—
A broken sword in trembling hands.

The nights are black, no stars to guide,
A void where hope has long since died.
My soul a grave, my thoughts decay,
A ruin slowly washed away.

In every tremble, every tear,
There’s rage too fierce to disappear.
So let the world look on and say
I’m lost within my own decay.

I wear the weight of silent cries,
Invisible beneath the lies.
A hollow heart, a cursed refrain
Forever bound in endless pain.

I wake each day to dragging skies,
With hollow breath and heavy eyes.
The mirror shows a stranger’s face
A ghost that time cannot erase.

My thoughts are storms behind a grin,
A quiet war I fight within.
They see me stand, they see me try,
But never hear the hows or why.

“Go take a walk,” they gently urge,
As if that stops the endless surge.
“Just think good thoughts, and you’ll pull through,”
As if I haven’t tried that too.

I’ve stitched my soul with fraying thread,
And danced on floors where hope has bled.
I’ve whispered truths no one can see,
Like “living hurts,” and “I’m not me.”

The weight I carry, none can chart
A thousand knives deep in the heart.
And when I speak, when I confess,
They offer cures, then change the mess.

I plead in silence, cracked and shattered
And all they say is:

Pitter Patter.