I'm not okay, and I can't lie anymore—
the mask has cracked, the smile worn through,
and here I am, raw on the floor,
bleeding truth I swore I'd never show you.
I'm lost in rooms where no one knows my name,
surrounded by a world that doesn't see—
I've chased love down but it never came,
just left me emptier than I used to be.
I'm terrified of dying with no one there,
of slipping under and nobody noticing I'm gone—
of waking up at forty with nothing but air,
of every single morning still alone.
Failure's got its fingers on my throat,
whispering I'll never be enough—
that I'm just killing time, barely afloat,
waiting for the day I've had enough.
But maybe breaking open is the point—
maybe I needed to hit bottom here,
to feel every nerve, every severed joint,
to know exactly what I fear.
I've spent so long running from the hurt,
hiding in the comfortable and safe—
but easy never made me worth the dirt,
never showed me what I'm made of underneath this face.
This emptiness, this ache, this sleepless dread—
it's not the ending, it's the cost of trying,
of wanting more than the half-life I've led,
of refusing to go gentle into dying.
So let it hurt. Let it rip me apart.
I'll take the knife and cut deeper still—
every scar is proof I had a heart,
every wound is evidence I feel.
If it doesn't hurt, I'm already dead—
if it doesn't break me, nothing changes here.
I'll walk straight into what I've fled,
and burn away everything but what is real.
I'm learning how to hurt and still keep going,
to sit with pain and not run away—
to take my terror and my not-knowing
and make them into something I can say.
This loneliness that's eating me alive?
I'll make it fuel. I'll make it fire.
If this is what it takes to survive,
then I'll become what suffering requires.
So yes, I'm not okay—but watch me burn.
Watch me take this wreckage and rebuild.
Every lesson that I had to learn
by breaking first, by getting killed.
If it doesn't hurt, it isn't growth.
If it doesn't scar me, it's not true.
I'll take the pain—I'll take them both,
and come out someone I never knew.
Nov 9, 2025
Nov 9, 2025 at 1:28 AM UTC
I'm not okay, and I can't lie anymore—
the mask has cracked, the smile worn through,
and here I am, raw on the floor,
bleeding truth I swore I'd never show you.
I'm lost in rooms where no one knows my name,
surrounded by a world that doesn't see—
I've chased love down but it never came,
just left me emptier than I used to be.
I'm terrified of dying with no one there,
of slipping under and nobody noticing I'm gone—
of waking up at forty with nothing but air,
of every single morning still alone.
Failure's got its fingers on my throat,
whispering I'll never be enough—
that I'm just killing time, barely afloat,
waiting for the day I've had enough.
But maybe breaking open is the point—
maybe I needed to hit bottom here,
to feel every nerve, every severed joint,
to know exactly what I fear.
I've spent so long running from the hurt,
hiding in the comfortable and safe—
but easy never made me worth the dirt,
never showed me what I'm made of underneath this face.
This emptiness, this ache, this sleepless dread—
it's not the ending, it's the cost of trying,
of wanting more than the half-life I've led,
of refusing to go gentle into dying.
So let it hurt. Let it rip me apart.
I'll take the knife and cut deeper still—
every scar is proof I had a heart,
every wound is evidence I feel.
If it doesn't hurt, I'm already dead—
if it doesn't break me, nothing changes here.
I'll walk straight into what I've fled,
and burn away everything but what is real.
I'm learning how to hurt and still keep going,
to sit with pain and not run away—
to take my terror and my not-knowing
and make them into something I can say.
This loneliness that's eating me alive?
I'll make it fuel. I'll make it fire.
If this is what it takes to survive,
then I'll become what suffering requires.
So yes, I'm not okay—but watch me burn.
Watch me take this wreckage and rebuild.
Every lesson that I had to learn
by breaking first, by getting killed.
If it doesn't hurt, it isn't growth.
If it doesn't scar me, it's not true.
I'll take the pain—I'll take them both,
and come out someone I never knew.