I wake,
but I don’t arrive.

I brush my teeth,
scroll my phone,
drink my thoughts
with lukewarm tea.

The clock ticks,
not like a heartbeat
but like a metronome
keeping time
for a song I no longer sing.

I answer emails,
nod in meetings,
smile where it fits.
I am present,
but not here.
Every day feels
like a copy
of a copy
of a dream I once had.

I miss surprises.
I miss meaning.
I miss the version of me
that thought this would feel
like living.

But I keep going.
One task. One sigh.
One “maybe tomorrow
I’ll feel something.”

Because even machines
need maintenance.
And I
am still
trying
to stay alive.

On this losing streak
Has to turn around
Strive so hard but cannot escape
Failure to which I am bound

Until starting positive changes
Disappointment will remain on your face
Day after day promise to improve
Clear to see that's not the case

Gone are effortless exchanges
Excited words once eagerly shared
Sitting on sheets together
For a relationship was unprepared

In blink of an eye you lifted my world
A little closer towards the sun
Leaving each trace of regret beneath my feet
No idea what we had begun

All the moments spent since
I've discovered in your company
Collected and shown on display inside
Like antique coins or paintings in an art gallery

Done proclaiming pathetic excuses
Instead of trying my best
You deserve someone who would die in order
To protect treasure buried in your chest

Some nights don’t end, they just disguise
They trade the stars for tired skies.
The sun comes up, but not for me,
It only lights what I can’t see.

I brush my teeth, I comb my hair,
Pretend I’m fine, pretend I care.
But underneath this thin disguise,
A storm is swirling in my eyes.

It’s not a scream—it’s something worse:
A quiet, slow, persistent curse.
A numbness pressed into my chest,
A longing just to finally rest.

"You’re broken goods," the whispers hum,
"The best of you will never come."
And though I know they lie like thieves,
Their poison drips between the leaves.

I try to speak, but words fall short
Like soldiers lost in last resort.
So I just nod and fake a grin,
While hiding everything within.

But still I rise, though barely so,
Though heavy winds refuse to go.
Each breath I take, each silent cry
Is proof I haven’t said goodbye.

Not healing fast, not flying free,
Not who I was, or hoped to be.
But still I walk, though slow and small,
And fight the urge to lose it all.

No ending yet, no twist, no cure
Just strength in choosing to endure.
When darkness stays and will not leave,
I stay as well.
I still believe.