Some days feel heavier than the sky at dusk,
Like even breathing takes a little extra trust.
Your thoughts run wild, your chest feels tight,
And every hour stretches longer than the night.
You tell yourself you should be stronger by now,
But healing isn’t linear, it never knows how.
You’re not broken, you’re bending, learning the art,
Of holding the cracks without tearing apart.
There’s a voice in your head that whispers defeat,
Says you’re too tired, too slow, too incomplete.
But that voice isn’t truth, it’s fear in disguise,
It talks loud but it shrinks when you open your eyes.
Look at the proof in the way you still try,
In the tears that fall but refuse to deny,
That you’re here, that you stayed, that you fought,
Even when staying was harder than you thought.
It will get better, not all at once,
Not like a miracle, not like a punch.
It comes in pieces, in quiet ways,
In ordinary moments, in gentle days.
A laugh you didn’t expect to feel,
A song that hits something achingly real.
A morning where getting up doesn’t sting,
A night where your heart finally loosens its grip.
You don’t have to be brave every second you breathe,
You don’t have to earn rest or justify grief.
Some days surviving is more than enough,
Some days soft is stronger than tough.
Let yourself rest, let yourself cry,
Let yourself live without asking why.
You’re not behind, you’re right on time,
Learning to heal in your own design.
One day you’ll look back and quietly see,
The version of you that refused to leave.
And you’ll thank her softly for holding on,
For believing the darkness wasn’t the end of the song.
So stay, even when hope feels thin,
This chapter hurts, but it isn’t the end.
It will get better, I promise it will,
And until then, breathe… just breathe, and be still.
