Those nights alone

Some nights the loneliness presses so hard

it feels like my own breath is pushing against me.

Like I’m standing on the edge of something

I can’t name out loud,

some dark, quiet place

where the world feels too far away to touch.

It’s the kind of emptiness

that doesn’t just ache

it pulls.

It whispers that I’m too heavy for people to hold,

too quiet for anyone to hear,

too invisible for anyone to miss.

I try to keep moving,

to remind myself I’m here,

but some days even that feels like a battle

I fight in silence.

And yet…

some small part of me keeps a grip

a thin thread

that refuses to let go.

Maybe stubbornness,

maybe hope I can’t fully feel yet,

maybe the quiet belief

that there’s more for me than this moment

that hurts too much to explain.

I keep breathing,

even when it feels like the darkness

is louder than I am.

I keep waiting for the day

the weight lifts enough

for light to reach me again.