Yet another
milestone
to reach
another
year to breach

- yourself

Overwhelming thoughts and feelings,
Spiraling down a deep, dark hole.
I can’t breathe—I just keep reeling,
Haunted by the places I’ve lost control.

Every step feels like a mistake,
A path of ruin I can’t escape.
Friendships hollow, love a lie,
No one sees the pain I hide.
I cannot breathe, I cannot be—
What’s so deeply wrong with me?

For a moment, I’m fine, the storm recedes,
But the calm is fleeting, and chaos breeds.
The weight crashes down; I can’t bear the sound,
A tidal wave pulling me deeper to drown.
I know I’m broken, but why like this?
These sudden storms leave me breathless.

My heart is a horse on a racetrack,
Thundering, pounding, faster, faster.
No winner in this endless chase—
Just relentless thoughts, quickening pace.
“Are you okay?” they ask; I nod,
Hiding the battle, a perfect facade.
“It’s just a headache,” I quietly lie,
While inside, I fail and cry.

I try to focus, try to breathe,
But the darkness whispers, “You’ll never leave.”
Every effort feels destined to fail,
A silent scream in an endless gale.

This year is destined to be unlike any other,
Full of gains, yet marked by quiet losses.

There are moments brimming with anticipation,
And fears of letting something precious slip away.
There are silent guardians watching over,
And blessings whispered softly into the wind.

I find myself waiting for something unknown,
Unsure of what it might be.
Yet, I wish to wait a little longer...
Just a little longer...
Perhaps, something extraordinary might truly arrive.

As I look back on the path we've traveled,
I hope only to leave behind hope,
Without asking for anything in return.
Let us continue this journey together,
Bound by a wordless understanding.
Everything is felt,
And nothing needs to be spoken.
Let us keep walking this way...
Always...

in a moment,
it will all be gone in just a moment,
when the lights go out
on the edge of this black hole
that you call home.
it's a struggle
to prevent it from collapsing on itself,
to maintain any sense of self at all.
you don't want the things that help you,
it's no good if you're not hurting anymore,
as if someone's keeping score
of all the times that you've been happy.
and you try to patch the void,
pull the curtains close together,
wait till everyone is gone.
now it feels a bit more like it,
when it's dark
both on the inside and the outside
of the edge of this black hole
that you call home,
you're all alone.

shall i scream,
or sing a low hum?
read Poe -
or write a poem?  
the clock ticks away -
my fingers go numb;
my eyes wide open;
my voice -

so dumb.

'loneliness is a tax you have to pay to atone for a certain complexity of mind.'

                                     - Alain de Botton.