I keep waking up
in the wreckage of a life
I swore I’d fix by now.
The walls don’t echo anymore
even the silence is tired of me.
I used to dream in colour.
Now everything feels dipped
in the same dull grey,
the shade of apologies
I never stop repeating.
Every regret has teeth.
They drag across my thoughts,
biting into the memories
I pretend I’ve healed from.
I taste blood
and call it growth.
People talk about hope
like it’s a light switch,
as if I can just flick it on
and stop feeling the weight
of every version of me
I’ve already buried.
Some nights,
I rehearse my absence
just to feel in control,
imagining who would notice,
who would lie about caring,
who would sleep fine anyway.
I don’t want grand endings.
I just want the ache to stop
pressing its thumbprint
into my ribs.
I want one hour
where my thoughts don’t circle
like vultures waiting
for the final collapse.
But I keep breathing,
out of habit or spite,
I’m not sure.
Maybe survival is just
a slow, uninterested miracle
that I haven’t earned
but keep receiving.
Dec 2, 2025
Dec 2, 2025 at 7:29 PM UTC
I keep waking up
in the wreckage of a life
I swore I’d fix by now.
The walls don’t echo anymore
even the silence is tired of me.
I used to dream in colour.
Now everything feels dipped
in the same dull grey,
the shade of apologies
I never stop repeating.
Every regret has teeth.
They drag across my thoughts,
biting into the memories
I pretend I’ve healed from.
I taste blood
and call it growth.
People talk about hope
like it’s a light switch,
as if I can just flick it on
and stop feeling the weight
of every version of me
I’ve already buried.
Some nights,
I rehearse my absence
just to feel in control,
imagining who would notice,
who would lie about caring,
who would sleep fine anyway.
I don’t want grand endings.
I just want the ache to stop
pressing its thumbprint
into my ribs.
I want one hour
where my thoughts don’t circle
like vultures waiting
for the final collapse.
But I keep breathing,
out of habit or spite,
I’m not sure.
Maybe survival is just
a slow, uninterested miracle
that I haven’t earned
but keep receiving.
10:24am / please tell me i’m not the only one who feels this old inside
