Sometimes it’s too dark to tell what’s real

I wake up numb, forget how to feel.
It’s not just the night, it’s the weight in my chest,
The constant war that gives me no rest.
I try to breathe, but the air turns cold,
Try to be brave, but I feel too old
Like the pieces of me that used to fight
Got lost somewhere between wrong and right.
They say, “Just walk toward the light, you’ll see,”
But the light feels like it’s hiding from me.
Each step forward is a mountain climb,
And sometimes I just don’t have the time

Or the strength. Or the will. Or the fight in my veins.
I’m tired of dancing in acid rain.
I scream in silence, pray through the tears,
But God feels distant , blurred by my fears.
I wonder if healing is even for me,
Or if I’m meant to drown quietly.
Still, something inside won’t fully let go.
A whisper. A flicker. A half-buried glow.
It’s not quite hope, but it’s not quite gone

Some part of me still wants to hold on.
I carry this pain like a second skin,
But maybe—just maybe—I’ll rise again.
Not today. Maybe not even soon.
But someday, I’ll step out from under this moon.
Because even in ruin, I still exist,
And that, somehow, feels like resistance