Life isn’t always so amazing —
it’s a network of paths, tangled and shifting,
Where choices loop back,
and clarity takes the long way home.
But it’s not a maze thing.
There’s no clever exit, no final door.
Just detours, delays,
and questions that don’t come with maps.

It’s a hostile universe —not always loud,
but indifferent in the quietest ways.
A basic existence where even the basics
don’t always feel like they’re enough.
You breathe, you eat, you sleep —
but some days you feel so empty.
Like the days are leaning too hard
against your chest.

Some days, survival feels like success.
Other days, it feels like something
just shy of being a complete failure.
But even in that, there’s a small defiance —
to keep walking anyway,
to speak kindly into the static,
to carve out a corner of warmth
where no warmth was promised.

Not because it fixes the universe —
but because it changes you.
And maybe that’s enough
for now.

There are days I try to summon peace — to call away
the late-night ghosts still pacing the edge of sleep.
As I wear the last tears like glass in my dry eyes,
fragile, but refusing to fall.

As I hold faith in the sunrise — though I don’t know
if this night will stretch longer than I can bear, or if
tomorrow will rise with light enough to meet me again.

And if lips are a quiet prize — not just for kissing,
but for kindness — then may they still speak, softly,
with the warmth of a life beginning again.

I am not always okay-
but I'm always trying.

Some days,
the weight is quiet.
Other days,
it screams through my bones
and I still show up.

I've learned to be the calm
when nothing else is.
To hold my own hand
when no one else reaches for it.

I do not need to be loud
to be strong.
I do not need to be seen
to be real.

And if I am only
a soft kind of brave-
that's still brave enough.