woke up
on tuesday morning,
one foot
in front of the other.
no rush,
no hurry—
just me,
blue and under
the weather.
i used to find
sunshine
in so many places,
but i lost
the best
i’ve ever had—
and now,
the sun feels
a little colder
now.
i wonder
whether
it gets better.
i used to be
a goal-getter.
now i’m in overdrive,
short-term PTSD—
nerves wrecked,
spirit stretched.
so many days
crying,
wondering if
this ever ends—
’cause i’m tired
of living
a bittersweet story,
and tired
of being
down bad.
you were
the best—
the best
i’ve ever had.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 11:49 PM UTC
woke up
on tuesday morning,
one foot
in front of the other.
no rush,
no hurry—
just me,
blue and under
the weather.
i used to find
sunshine
in so many places,
but i lost
the best
i’ve ever had—
and now,
the sun feels
a little colder
now.
i wonder
whether
it gets better.
i used to be
a goal-getter.
now i’m in overdrive,
short-term PTSD—
nerves wrecked,
spirit stretched.
so many days
crying,
wondering if
this ever ends—
’cause i’m tired
of living
a bittersweet story,
and tired
of being
down bad.
you were
the best—
the best
i’ve ever had.
There are mornings where the sunlight doesn’t hit quite the same—when grief lingers in the corners of routine, and you realize you're no longer who you used to be.
Inspired by All Time Low’s "The Weather", this piece reflects the quiet unraveling after losing someone who felt like your sun.
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