she is rain drops on tree bark
and sunshine in dark places
she gives chances to those
who don't want to leave
she places them in her shine
so they can see truth
she knows nothing but good
and light and music and art
she is you, evolved

she is the opposite of the one who resides
in the dark corners of your mind
the dark corners that glow eerily to life
only at night
the one who resides there
scrapes at your brain
with his long, crooked lies
he is medication uncurable
but not Daizee invincible

he whispers things into the corner of your mind
terrible things
guilty, guilty, guilty
but upon the arrival of the light
he can see through the fog
everything is translucent
and he whistles a new tune
loved, loved, loved
he now knows his time is up

no more will he pick at your skin
no longer will he cut at your identity
he has been replaced by an irrevocable light called Daizee
but she will not dispel him entirely
instead she looks at him
she sees him
she KNOWS him
she sees your whole life inside his eyes
but it's not all bad

and she knows no matter how much damage he caused
he cannot touch the one he lives inside
anymore
for now that she has arrived
she will protect you from the darkness
she is your nightlight
she is your rain
she is your trees
and she can never be reduced to a stump

so she locks pinkies with him
in a promise of a truce
for the sake of the one he has been killing
he stares into the beautiful light
he knows that he must stay
to leave would be to change you entirely
and you are loved too much with him included for him to do that
so he lives forever
not in darkness, but in the light of the one who saved him

Daizee

Depression isn’t always tears and empty bottles.
Sometimes, it’s brushing your teeth and feeling like that was too much.
It’s staring at a wall for hours and calling it rest.
Its smiling so no one asks what’s wrong, because you don’t even know what to say.

It’s nog sadness.
It’s less.
Less feeling.
Less colour.
Less will.
Less you.

You wake up already tired.
You go to bed hoping you won’t wake up.
You function, but its mechanical.
smiling like you’re on autopilot, nodding through conversations.
You cancel plans saying this a headache.
You reply late,
Then feel guilty.
But even guilt takes too much energy.

They say,
“Just talk to someone”
But how do you explain a sadness that doesn’t  have a reason?
How do you open your mouth and describe the way it hurts to just be alive?
So you say,
“I’m fine”
Over and over, until it sounds like your name.

If you relate,
If this feels too close,
Please know it’s not your fault.
You’re not broken.
You’re not weak.
You’re carrying something no one else can.
And even if it feels endless,
Even if you can’t see light right now.

Youre still here.
And that means something.
You mean something.

It doesn’t always look like crying.
Sometimes it’s just silence that stays too long.
It’s the half-smile,
The “I’m fine”
That sounds just convincing enough to stop the questions.

And when you finally slip,
They say,
“They should’ve said something”
“I didn’t know it was that bad”
“Why didn’t they just ask for help?”
But help starts to feel like guilt.
Like handing your pain to someone who’s already got their own.

So you stay quiet.
You try.
Until you can’t anymore.

People light candles for a soul they never saw burning.
And just like that,
you become
Important.
Valuable.
Tragic.
Because people only care once you’re gone.

So if you’re here,
Still breathing,
Still hurting.
Let this be proof
That your silence is speaking.
That someone is listening.
That even on the days you feel invisible,
You are not

Please stay.

Its the answer I’ve rehearsed,
The shield I raise without thinking.
Three words stacked like bricks between me and the world.
Because if I say more,
If I let the cracks show.
They might fall through.
And then I’d have to explain
why my heart feels heavy,
Why my mind wont stop spinning,
Why the silence inside me is louder than any noice outside.

So I say,
“I’m fine”
Like a broken record,
Like a lie I tell myself first.

It’s easier this way,
to tuck the storm away,
To hide the pain behind a smile,
To keep the floodgates closed.

But sometimes, in the quiet, when no one’s watching those words echo back at me.
A hollow, Empty promise that doesn’t mean a thing.
Because inside,
Im not fine.
Not really.

But the world doesn’t need to know that.
So I say it again,
Softly,
As prayer,
As a lie,

“I’m fine.”

Music isn’t just noice, it’s a language my soul already speaks.
The first thing that ever made sense when nothing else did.
I don’t just listen to it.
I feel it.
Let it wrap around my ribs like a lifeline when my mind starts drowning itself at 2 a.m.

It silences the thoughts that won’t shut up.
It fills the room so my fear can’t echo back at me.

When the world is too much, music makes it just enough.
Some songs hit like memories I never lived.
Others sound like truths I never said out loud.
They make me cry without warning,
Smile without reason,
Feel something when I’ve been numb for days.

It connects us.
Strangers across oceans singing the same lyrics with tears in their eyes.
People who’ve never met still get it,
Because the melody said what words never could.

Music is my safe place.
My freedom.
My heartbeat when mine is off-beat.

I need it
Without it,
I’m just static

There’s a weight I carry,
but you wont hear about it.
I don’t know how to say the words, they get stuck somewhere between my throat and my fear.

Every time I think of opening up,
I tell myself,
“you’re overreacting.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“No one can fix it anyway.”

Its mine.
My mess.
Why make it someone else’s?
What could they even do?

Talking about it feels like asking for pity.
Like I’m begging for attention I don’t deserve.

And if I tried,
if I really spoke,
I know I’d cry.
The kind of cry that leaves you raw and ashamed.

And what if they look at me like I’m weak?
Like I’m broken beyond repair?

Most days I tell myself my feelings don’t count.
Others have it worse.
I should just handle it.

And so I don’t speak.
i swallow it whole.
I wear a smile that lies.

But when you need someone when you are falling apart,
I’m the first to listen.
I’ll sit in the dark with you.
I’ll carry what you can’t.

Funny how I can give kindness, but can’t let myself take it.
I don’t know how.
I don’t think I’m allowed.
And deep down, I’m so scared of being a burden that i’d rather bleed in silence.