my brain
won’t shut up.

every second
is another scream
i’m supposed to ignore.

it tells me
to hurt myself.
to disappear.
to stop pretending.

& honestly,
i’m tired
of pretending.

they say
“you have so much
to be happy about”
as if that erases
the weight
on my chest.

as if healing
is linear.
as if trauma
can’t sneak in
once the storm
has passed.

i really thought
i was better.

i was wrong.

& now i’m just
waiting
for the silence
to come back—
even if it means
i won’t.