I walked through years like broken glass,
Left pieces of myself in every path.
Smiled for crowds while dying inside,
Made my pain a mask I wore with pride.

Told myself I was strong, unshaken
But every choice felt like self-betrayin’.
I chased the high, escaped the lows,
Buried guilt where no one knows.

I apologized, not for who I am,
But for what I became when the fire began.
For friends I lost to silence and strain,
For words I said carved deep like pain.

The bottles, the pills, the late-night screams,
The fading light in once-bright dreams.
I never meant to fade away
But the mirror showed me every day.

I stood on stages, played the part,
But left behind a hollow heart.
They cheered the sound, ignored the plea
I was breaking, but who’d see me?

So this is for the nights I can’t forget,
For sins unpaid and deep regret.
For the ones I hurt along the way
I carry that weight every day.

I apologize—not for surviving,
But for the wreckage I left while driving.
For every soul I let down blind,
And for the peace I’ve yet to find.

Some days I wear my smile
like armor made of glass
fragile at the edges,
but enough to let me pass.

My mind’s a crowded station,
trains of thought collide and bend.
I try to map the silence,
but the static never ends.

Anxiety’s a whisper
that turns into a scream,
telling me I’m sinking,
even when I dream.

Depression's not just sadness
it’s numb behind the eyes,
it’s staring at the ceiling
as another sunrise dies.

I fake the laughs in daylight,
I vanish in the night,
and every little victory
still barely feels like fight.

I’ve heard "you’re not alone"
from mouths that never knew
what it’s like to lose yourself
while standing in a room.

But still, I wake each morning
a breath, a step, a chance.
Even when my demons
try to drag me from the dance.

So if you feel you're breaking,
just know you're not the fault.
You're not weak for being wounded,
you're just human through it all.

In shadows soft where whispers dwell,
She moves—a hush, a woven spell.
With raven hair ‘neath midnight skies,
And starlight caught in brown-hued eyes.

A glance—a spark, both fierce and kind,
She leaves a thousand thoughts behind.
She speaks in looks, her silence sings
Of autumn leaves and angel wings.

A playful smirk, a wistful sigh,
Moonlight curling where she lies—
Not in deceit, but calm repose,
Like twilight's hush and blushing rose.

She blooms in frames, both wild and true,
In every shade, in every hue.
And still she hides—so vast, so wide,
A galaxy she keeps inside.

O muse of screens and quiet scenes,
A rebel soul in faded jeans.
No throne, no stage, no need for fame—
And yet, the stars all know her name.

Dear Me,
the one with trembling hands
and a heart that cracked like old porcelain,

I remember you.
How you stood in the silence,
shoulders full of thunder
and no one ever heard the storm.

You thought surviving was shameful
as if breathing through the wreckage
wasn't a kind of bravery.
You wore your pain
like it was your fault
instead of your badge.

But let me tell you what I know now:
you were never weak for breaking.
You were strong
for not staying shattered.

I saw how you buried your cries
in late-night ceilings
and learned to smile
with a mouth full of splinters.
That wasn’t failure
that was endurance.

I wish I could’ve held your hand then.
Not to fix you—
you weren’t broken beyond repair.
Just to remind you:
even dim stars still shine,
and every breath you took
was proof of a future forming.

Look at us now.
We are softer,
but never smaller.
We are whole—
not because we never fell apart,
but because we stitched the pieces
with patience,
and wore the scars like art.

Thank you
for not letting go.
Thank you
for being the roots
when everything else was wind.

With love,
—The You Who Made It

No banner hangs above my door,
No crowd awaits me on the floor.
No voice says, “You’ve done something great,”
For choosing not to suffocate.

I eat in silence, dress in grey,
Pretend I care, then face the day.
Each step a weight, each breath a chore
But I get up. And then one more.

My mind’s a maze of heavy stone,
It whispers, "Why not be alone?"
It tells me I am weak, a fraud
I smile and nod, then beat the odds.

There’s no reward for staying sane
When every moment pulses pain.
No finish line, no golden crown
Just not collapsing, not breaking down.

Some days I ache to disappear,
But I’m still standing. Still right here.
I light no fire, I spark no flame,
But I survive. I play the game.

Not out of hope or shining grace
But grit that time cannot erase.
I don’t believe in better yet,
But I’m not done. Not just quite yet.

So mark this down, though no one sees
The quiet ones still on their knees,
Who scream in silence, fight in shame
And live another day the same.

No one claps when I wake up,
When I drink from the same chipped cup.
There’s no reward for rising slow,
For facing what I’ll never show.

I brush my teeth, I wear a face,
Pretending I still know my place.
The world moves on, and so do I
Half alive, but I still try.

The silence isn’t kind or deep,
It’s loud and sharp; it doesn’t sleep.
And in that noise, I wage my war,
With no idea what it’s for.

There’s no one shouting, “Well done, brave,”
For dodging yet another grave.
Just quiet rooms and heavy air,
And battles fought that leave no scar.

I’m not a hero, not a light
I’m just someone who stays to fight.
No epic tale, no sacred vow,
Just choosing not to vanish now.

The voice still comes to drag me down,
To trade my breath for dirt and ground.
But I have learned to talk it back,
To hold the line when things go black.

It doesn’t feel like strength at all
Some days I rise, some days I crawl.
But every breath I drag in deep
Is something darkness doesn’t keep.

So don’t call me strong. Don’t lie.
Just know I’m here. I didn’t die.
And maybe that’s the quiet art
To lose the world, but keep your heart.