No voices, no noise, just me and my thoughts.
The thoughts that I try every day to out run.
They burn me, they cut me, so deep in the night.
You’re not enough.
You’re too much.
You’re nothing.
They’re right.

But I smile in the daylight,
“I’m healing” I say.
I know that I’m trying, every day.

Because people want progress - not truth, not the toll.
Not the ugly storms that swallow me whole.

But I am not brave,
Thoughts stronger than I am.
And tonight in the darkness
I don’t know if I can.
Thrive?
Just survive?