Something is different today
There was once a burning fire
An immortal tolerance for pain
Anything to achieve my desire

I would burn the earth to take my boon
I would walk through hell to win
I would die inside a brilliant fire
Because I knew I'd rise again

But lately something has changed inside
Something killed my epic soul
Something has exhausted the fuel within
Burned out, cold, I pay the toll

I used to have an awesome drive
An i

Die
Die
Die
Die
Die
Die
Die

0

I stand in a dark room,
empty and alone,
ashamed and hurt,
filthy and unclean,
a receptacle for all garbage.

I sit against a cold wall,
drowning in my thoughts,
drowning in my pain,
drowning in mire and filth,
drowning by myself.

I reach for anything to bring myself up,
and the water starts to flow.

A trickle at first, uncertain,
then stronger, washing over me.
I let clean water strip away my filth.
I don’t fight it.
I give in.
I let the water wash away my shame,
watching my thoughts swirl down the drain.

As I sit there, I can’t feel my pain,
can’t see my shame,
can’t sense my filth.
I watch everything washing away,
vanishing into the depths.

I feel clean.
I feel alive.
I feel ready to take a step.

A step forward.
A step away from the past.
A step toward something new.

I am ready to be better.

Getting better each day
Trying
Slowly
It hurts

I know good is to come
I know beauty is inside
I know the artist is wonderful
But every chip of the chisel makes me want to give up

Every swing of the hammer makes me cry
Every stroke of the brush knocks me down
Every moment in the flame hardens my heart
But it hardens my resolve

The artist has seen my clay and promised beautiful things
I won't be this way forever
Somebody is sculpting me into my true self
But every gentle touch feels like shattered bones

My broken pieces are turning into a beautiful mosaic
Stunning and colorful
But right now it hurts
Right now I need help
To see what the artist sees

Right now I can't trust the artist
Because all I've felt is hurt
All I've seen is pain
I can't ever see what the artist sees

But I know he's there
I know he loves me
I know he is slowly healing me
Even if I can't see it, he can

So I'm getting better
Trying
Slowly
It hurts
But I'm getting better

I spend every day
praying to break this cycle,
adrift on a sea without wind in my sails,
no hands to row me to safety,
sitting in my own filth—
completely alone.

I see ships on the horizon,
their shapes shimmering like salvation,
but they are only mirages.
I whisper lies to myself:
“You’re saved.”
Laughable.
Nobody knows you’re out here.

I could jump,
let the waves take me,
drown in the mire of my own making.
But I’m too scared to die—
too scared to free myself
from this isolation.

Instead, I’ve hung the gun on the wall.
It waits there, cold and patient,
a silent promise,
If nothing changes,
I will save myself


Your move

I’m hungry.
Starving.
Dying.
Alone.

Im in need,
but how far would I go?
What would I do to feed my soul?
Would I consume the brambles before me,
knowing each bite would tear me apart?

I bite down and taste only blood.
The ache remains,
a hunger that gnaws at my edges.
I need this, but it hurts.

So I wrap myself in thorns,
cut my skin to ribbons,
just to feel something—
anything.

Maybe now that I’m cut and bleeding,
someone will notice.

…

Maybe not.

I feel odd
This strange mood has taken me

Something isn't right
Something isn't right

Discontent incomplete not whole
I wander down a bright corridor the lights hurt my eyes
The hum a cacophony of pain

Something isn't right
Something isn't right
Something isn't right
Something isn't right

I'm falling but stationary
A runaway train lost in the empty brightness
I'm mindlessly speeding through nothingness

Something is terribly wrong

I've never felt this way before
A mad descent
I'm suffering and I don't know why

I feel sick
From tension
From speed
From stress
From pain
From sickness
I don't know why

Something is wrong
Something is wrong
Something is wrong
Something is terribly wrong

My life is falling apart
as I curl up the walls close in
The bright light intensifies
I can't take it
I don't know
Please GOD save me

Please somebody save me

I can't think
I can't eat
I can't walk
I can't sleep

Something is wrong and it's hurting
The light intensifies
The hum gets louder
The walls begin to crush my chest
I gasp for breath but nothing reaches my lungs

The front gate is open.
You needn’t even knock.
Everything you’re seeking is right here.
Walk through my city—
its streets cracked, its walls worn thin.

You ride in, asking “Are you okay?”
Your voice is warm, your intentions pure.
The city looks broken.
“I’m fine. I’ll fix it.”
But who am I kidding?
I’m not fine.
My inner sanctum is leveled,
my heart crushed,
my life force drained.

You nod as though reassured,
admiring the scaffolding and fresh paint.
“You’re strong,” you say,
then gallop off to your next quest.
But you didn’t stay long enough
to notice the rubble behind the walls.

Don’t just stop at “I’m okay.”
Because I’m not.
I can’t share the crumbling walls behind the fresh paint
I don’t know how.
But I do need help.

You saw the scaffolding and thought it was enough.
You didn’t see the cracks spreading beneath.
You didn’t see how the darkness still presides,
smothering the streets,
hiding in the corners of my heart.

I’m getting worse,
Even if I look like I'm healing.
This darkness must be dispelled,
But you’ve already ridden away,
Your banner bright against the sky.

Of course,
you meant well.
But you never looked deep enough to see.

I walk along an endless beach,
waves lapping at my ankles,
soft sand beneath my feet.
The world is a quiet peace.

I glance back and notice,
to my surprise,
two sets of footprints
trailing in the sand behind me.

I know He is here,
rejoicing in my joy,
walking beside me
because I have welcomed Him.

But one day, the wind rises.
The sky darkens, torn by thunder.
The waves crash, drowning my cries.
I stumble, unable to go on.

My life is unrecognizable—
rubble and filth,
pain and sorrow,
a world shattered by the storm.

And when I look back?
Only one set of footprints in the sand.

Why?

Am I truly alone?

I sit in silence,
lost in the weight of abandonment.
I search for understanding,
but all I find is emptiness.

I look up to the sky and cry out—
“Why have You forgotten me?”

Only then is the truth revealed.

Not my footprints, not my strength.
Every step in the sand was His.
Through the storm, He carried me,
through the waves, He walked.
Not a single moment alone.

I was never forsaken.
I forsook Him.
But he still carries me to the end

e build palaces on the beach
On the wet sand with tides lapping at our foundations
We build castles knowing that they will fall
But we do it anyway

They play a fleeting game that never lasts forever
They play a temporary game because it's fun
They play not to destroy but to build
So I too will to build

My destruction will not be by my own hand
But by the tide slowly pulling everything apart

I will build my sand castle to stand tall,
its spires catching the light of the setting sun.
I will build my castle to inspire awe,
to be envied and remembered.
Even when the tide takes it,
maybe its memory will remain—
etched in the sand, or in the hearts
of those who saw it rise.

So I will play,
to build, to create, to live.
Even knowing the tide will come,
I will play.

I finally let it all out—  
Hot rain falls over dry fields.  
I scream into the arid sky;  
The stoic sun finally yields.  
The storm begins to rise.  
  
Something breaks within  
A crack appears where the pain grows.  
The weight of indifference builds so fast,  
It tears apart what I held close.  
The storm breaks within me.  
  
Clouds cover the hateful sun;  
And finally, I feel the rain.  
Alone at my lowest point,  
I release all of my pain.  
The storm spills from me.  
  
I offer all of my hurt  
To a growing pool of tears.  
My emotions manifest before me—  
My hatred aches, sorrows, and fears.  
The storm is before me.  
  
The fields lie broken, split by scars,  
Roots exposed to open air.  
Where pain laid waste, the roots remain,  
Tentative life begins to dare.  
The storm has passed through me.  
  
The suffering hasn't stopped but growth begins

Do I suffer?
Everything I do, I do wrong.
I can’t even get help.
I want to manifest my pain—
to bleed into your vision,
to force you to see me.

I hate that I’m an inconvenience.
I hate that I could be a problem.
I hate that I cause offense.
But please, please see me.

I need to be loud.
I need to be heard.
I need to be seen.
Please—
just see me.

I’m sorry to ruin your day.
I’m hurting too.
****.
I hate myself.
I might do it.
I might finally show you.

My last laugh:
the silence shatters.
I will finally be remembered.
You can’t ignore this.

Surrounded by everyone, yet I remain unseen,
Heard by no one, invisible.
Amid the din of laughter, my words dissolve,
Unacknowledged, stripped of dignity.
Each silence carves away my sense of worth.

You can talk, yell, scream into the void,
But no one lifts a finger to help you.
You yell into valleys and plains—silence echoes back.
  
Part of a group, a long-sought pack,
Yet every effort feels like a mountain to climb.
I hear the sneers of those who should be close,
Not friends—just echoes of mockery,
Or the relentless chatter that drowns me out.
  
Nothing else, just the pain of being unseen.
  
The quiet swells and I fade, can they even see me?
If they don't see me, how can they care?
In this ever-growing silence, can I sustain myself?


Everyone seems amazing. Are they?
They wear smiles like masks—
Bright and polished, yet brittle beneath.
Perhaps beneath, a tide of hatred flows.
Do they hide it, or are you simply blind?  

Their perfection casts my flaws in sharper relief.
In this cold reality, a truth unfolds—
You will never succeed, your dreams a distant mirage.
The silence shapes you into something terrible,
A reflection you barely recognize.  

And yet?


Their silence shapes me into what I fear most
A shadow of my dream, do I even exist if I remain unseen?


I have never sought to end my life—
Such actions feel beneath me.
But pride alone cannot drown this silence.
Am I less? Am I saner than those who do?
My quiet misery matters to me.

Alive, yet unseen—does my life matter
If no one knows me?
I shine brightly, yet I am engulfed in shadows.
Am I really alive if only I can know me?

My mental health is perfect.
I am the happiest among them.
Am I? Can happiness survive in this silence?
Have I truly ever been happy?

I deserve understanding, yet it slips away—
No validation, no dignity.
Am I destined for loneliness forever?
Have I invited this loneliness again?  

From nothing to new nothing,
Have I truly escaped the hell I knew?


Alongside the pain, pride swells
A deadly war for my broken soul


You tell yourself you’re a wonderful person,  
but you don’t believe it.
You claim to be helpful, kind, cheerful.
You vowed to yourself that you would be—
A beacon for others yet lost in your own shadow.

You stumble under the weight of your own needs.
Every effort to be virtuous feels futile,
Not enough to save your soul.
A mirror reveals cracks you refuse to mend.
Shame coils around you, a shadow you cannot escape.


Even in the eternal night of my broken self, hope flickers
A struggling spark, lost in the dark expanse


Despite the darkness something burns
A dream that you long to watch grow
A dream that you long to nurture and care for
But through the broken glass, my vision distorts
Fragile unrecognizable unable to see its beauty

Shards shatter jagged and sharp
Unnoticed, unwhole, unseen
Is my suffering deserved?
Have I caused my pain?


Self loathing cannot mask the pride that swells
Their eternal war is still not louder than the dreadful silence


I know I am destined for more than dirt or ****,
Yet all I see are my shortcomings.
The silence shapes me into what I fear most
A shadow of the person I long to become.
I am nothing, noise in the background.
Were you meant to be important?
  
Actions speak louder than words, yet I stand still,
My voice lost in the roar of those who hate me—
Or worse, those who never even see me.

I am doomed to live in my quiet suffering
shattered and unseen, drowning in the suffocating silence