coffee&pen:)

Peace walks past and won’t touch me.

I wake up,

and it’s already wrong..

No reason..

Just heavy..

I move through the day

like a ghost wearing my skin..

I talk..i smile..

But none of it feels real..

People say,

Stay strong..

But I’m tired of being strong..

Strong doesn’t fix the ache..

Strong doesn’t stop the thoughts..

It’s not a breakdown..

It’s just this constant hum

a dull, dragging pain

that never shuts up..

I’m not looking for attention..

I’m looking for air..

Just a moment

where I don’t feel like I’m drowning in my own head..

It’s not always screaming..

Sometimes it’s silence,

the kind that makes your chest burn

because you’ve forgotten

I want to leave.

Not pack a bag,

not write a note.

Just vanish

like steam

from a cracked kettle.

No goodbyes.

No sorrys.

No fake smiles

over coffee cups.

I want the road

with no name,

the silence

after headlights fade.

This place

chokes me,

and I’ve been swallowing

everything

for too long.

If I go,

don’t look for me.

Let the wind

carry my name

to nowhere.

Somewhere out there

is a sky

that doesn’t

press down.

That’s where I’ll be.

Breathing.

I wake and fall—

not from sleep,

but from gravity unspoken.

Time folds me

like crumpled paper,

tugging at the marrow

with invisible hands.

Light dims at the edges

of my morning coffee,

and the clock is a liar

with too many teeth.

I breathe,

but the air forgets

how to hold me.

And always,

just before I disappear,

I wave

to the part of me

still pretending to orbit.

My friend, the wild.

Where the Crawdads sing.