Way out

It’s too much. It never stops.

The weight, the noise—it all just drops

On me like I can’t even breathe,

Like I’m stuck and I can’t leave.

They say “you’re strong,” they say “hold on,”

But every night just feels too long.

I scream inside, but no one hears,

Just me, my thoughts, and all my fears.

I wake up tired, fall asleep worse,

Like every day is some kind of curse.

And I don’t even know what’s wrong,

Just that I’ve felt like this too long.

I try to fake it, force a smile,

Act okay, at least for a while.

But it cracks, it slips, they start to see,

And now it’s just more weight on me.

So I stay quiet, keep it in,

No one gets how bad it’s been.

They’d just say “Oh, it’s just a phase,”

Like I’m a kid stuck in a daze.

But this is real, this is pain,

It’s drowning me again, again.

And if I say it, if they know,

Would they care, or let me go?

The blade, the burn, it numbs it out,

For just a sec, it drowns the doubt.

A second where I feel in control,

Like I can quiet down my soul.

But after that, it’s worse somehow,

Like I’m more lost than I am now.

Like every mark is proof I failed,

Like I’ve been screaming to no prevail .

I just want out. I want to go.

I want an end to all I know.

To shut my eyes, to disappear,

To be nowhere, to not be here.

But maybe, maybe, I don’t know.

What if there’s more? What if I stay?

What if I try just one more day?

What if there’s something past this place?

What if I find a softer space?

A hand to hold, a voice that stays,

A light that doesn’t burn away?

Maybe I don’t need to run.

Maybe I don’t need to be done.

Maybe the way out isn’t through,

But somewhere else, somewhere new.