I don’t understand why it feels so far away,
like the blue comforter I cried for, but you never gave me.
Wasn’t it supposed to be soft,
something to hold me when the nights felt endless?

Instead, I lay exposed beneath the weight of cold air,
wondering if I had asked for too much,
if the silence meant I wasn’t meant to be held.
Was it me, or was it everything else,
that made you keep it just out of reach?

And even now, I can’t help but wonder —
what would it have felt like to pull it close,
to finally be warm, and believe I belonged?

Why would you do this?
I don’t understand how you can bend my choices
until they no longer feel like mine.
You twist the threads of my life into knots,
each one tighter than the last.
Your words press into me — soft, indirect —
but sharp enough to bruise.

You blackmail me with your pain,
with threats that hang like shadows over my head.
You said you would end everything
if I didn’t do what you ask.
And somehow, I’m the one to blame for that, too.

I wonder if you see me at all —
not as a reflection of your broken pieces,
but as someone who is trying so hard
to live a life that feels like my own.
I know you feel powerless in yours,
but why must you tighten your grip on mine?

I hear you say, “Do whatever you want.”
But it’s a lie, isn’t it?
You don’t mean it,
because what you want is the only thing
that ever really matters.

I need you to hear me.
I need you to let go of this cycle
before it breaks me completely.
Because if you can’t stop,
then I will have to.

Why does it always come back to me,
Not having those around when I need them most?
Is it just me, lost in silence,
Not communicating, feeling like a ghost?

For all that I do, all that I give,
I wish for understanding in return;
I’m tired of being the strong one,
The one who knows yet feels the burn.

For once, I need someone to see,
To understand without my having to spell;
I know I sound like a broken record,
Caught in this cycle, trapped in this shell.

I try my best to be there, to care,
Postponing my plans, leaving troubles behind;
Pretending I’m whole, while I’m barely aware,
Hoping for warmth, a connection to find.

Is it wrong to expect, to want a reply,
To hope for a check-in from those I adore?
Is this what friendship means, a soft, quiet sigh,
A dance of giving, but always wanting more?

Did I miss the memo, all these years long,
Foolishly dreaming of bonds that could thrive?;
Is this what it feels like, to search for a song,
Only to find it’s just me trying to survive?

Who do I ask when I’m weary and worn,
Tired of being the one with the words?
I loved those who listened, but now I’m forlorn,
Only to find they speak only for their own.

Yet still, I hoped for someone who knows,
Who loves words as deeply as I;
But they speak for themselves, as the silence grows,
And I’m left wishing for just a reply.

Is it too much to ask for a few simple words,
A flicker of kindness, a moment to share?
In this vast sea of voices, where silence is unheard,
I yearn for a friend who will truly care.

I feel like I'm dying from the inside,
Rotting, beneath a skin that won’t let go.
No oxygen to reach the bones,
Yet the surface remains untouched,
Vacuum-sealed, untouched by the world.

The rot festers where no one can see,
Hidden, sealed tight, growing,
An emptiness that spreads, unnoticed.
The outside remains whole,
Untouched by the decay that tears me apart.

One day, the seal will fail,
My body will crack and break,
The rot inside will flood the surface,
And I will crumble from within,
The weight of it all too much to bear.

And the world will see
What has been slowly eating me,
The truth, long buried beneath the skin,
Will finally spill out,
And they will know,
Too late, how far the rot had spread.