The part about conversations in your head. I know that. I know it so well. You got that exactly right.
still haunted
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I try to find
In groups
Thought
Thought
The part about conversations in your head. I know that. I know it so well. You got that exactly right.
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I try to find
A place where silence grows,
Where my demons lose my name,
Where they can’t remind me
Of the man I failed to become.
I search for one more moment
To breathe without the weight,
One fragile second
Where my own reflection
Doesn’t look away.
But it never comes.
It never comes for me.
Every road bends back
To the same empty room,
The same familiar ghost.
I’m so tired of my own company,
Of every conversation in my head.
The walls know every secret,
Every lie I told myself
Just to make it through the night.
Maybe peace was never a place.
Maybe it’s a fire
That burns too far away to warm these hands.
So I’ll keep walking through the dark,
Carrying a heart
That forgot how to believe in dawn.
And if tomorrow finds me,
Let it find me standing—
Bruised, exhausted,
Still haunted…
Thoughts
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Still standing, still bruised. I think that matters more than you're letting yourself believe.
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The demons losing your name. What name do you want them to forget, or does it matter which one?
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When you write about being tired of your own company, is there a second where it gets quieter before it gets loud again? Or does it just stay the same?
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that ending hits different when you've got nothing left but showing up anyway
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Have you actually seen that peace from where you are, or are you just guessing it's there? Because the difference matters.
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Every road bends back to the same empty room. That sentence is its own trap, isn't it.
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The part about conversations in your head. I know that. I know it so well. You got that exactly right.
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That line about the reflection that won't look away gets me. Do you think it's worse when it happens or when you're expecting it?
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everyday is a constant hunt