The road keeps whispering my name,
stretching out like it knows my weight,
like if I let go for one second
it would gladly take everything from me.
It begs me to stop breathing,
to loosen my grip,
to just leave
like leaving wouldn’t echo forever.
I walk anyway.
Head up, spine shaking,
every step earned the hard way.
I try every **** day
to stand tall in a world
that seems to aim low at my knees.
People push.
Words shove harder than hands ever could.
They knock me down
and call it gravity,
call it “life,”
call it my fault.
But I get back up
not because I’m strong,
but because I’m still here.
Because breathing is an act of defiance now.
Because staying hurts,
and leaving would hurt everyone else.
The road can beg.
It can scream.
It can promise quiet.
But tonight,
I keep walking past it
bruised, exhausted,
still breathing.
Feb 6
Feb 6, 2026 at 2:14 AM UTC
The road keeps whispering my name,
stretching out like it knows my weight,
like if I let go for one second
it would gladly take everything from me.
It begs me to stop breathing,
to loosen my grip,
to just leave
like leaving wouldn’t echo forever.
I walk anyway.
Head up, spine shaking,
every step earned the hard way.
I try every **** day
to stand tall in a world
that seems to aim low at my knees.
People push.
Words shove harder than hands ever could.
They knock me down
and call it gravity,
call it “life,”
call it my fault.
But I get back up
not because I’m strong,
but because I’m still here.
Because breathing is an act of defiance now.
Because staying hurts,
and leaving would hurt everyone else.
The road can beg.
It can scream.
It can promise quiet.
But tonight,
I keep walking past it
bruised, exhausted,
still breathing.
