Fine

——————————————
———————
———————
———————
———————

Each night, I promise, say—tonight, I’ll be fine.

I’ll breathe, I’ll sleep, I won’t rewind.

But darkness settles like a weight on my chest,

and the memories riot, denying me rest.

I fold in on myself, tears pour down my face,

I scream out wishing you’d just reverse this—save me from this angonizimg head space.
So what if I’m too intense, care beyond belief. 

This is how I view everyone, do everything. At least I’m always ME. 

This silence can’t be final, this absence not real,

There’s a void in my being, no one else can fill.

How? Just walked away leaving me stunned and so defeated,

haunting every nightmare and dream, while ignoring my cries for relief. 

So I break. Again. A flood, a quake,

This pain, this ache I cannot shake.

Tomorrow, I’ll fake it, I’ll try to pretend—

but tonight, I collapse, cry till I can’t breathe, unravel, bend.

My job loss buried me in grief, 

But this.

This put me 6ft deeper than that, buried in unbelievable disbelief.