I keep coming back to that line about whispering to the moons. The fighting back part, too. There's something real in that.
you can talk to my wounds
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They keep killing all my dreams In silence, I keep fighting back While everything inside me screams I can't speak, but you can talk to my wounds They've made me whisper to so many moons It's a…
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I keep coming back to that line about whispering to the moons. The fighting back part, too. There's something real in that.
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They keep killing all my dreams
In silence, I keep fighting back
While everything inside me screams
I can't speak, but you can talk to my wounds
They've made me whisper to so many moons
It's a constant brood
And every night leaves another stain
A little more silence, a little more pain
I wear my failures underneath my skin
Like something broken I can never mend
I keep searching for a reason to remain
But every answer sounds the same
So let the darkness speak for me
Let it crawl beneath my skin
I am tired of fighting shadows
That I know I cannot win
But somewhere underneath the noise
There's still a voice I haven't killed
And if I can't believe in tomorrow
I'll just survive until I will
Thoughts
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Wait, so the wounds have a voice? I'm not sure what that means but I kind of love that line.
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The voice I haven't killed. That's the part I keep coming back to.
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That last line keeps coming back to me: there's still a voice I haven't killed. Because it's not resignation. It's still fighting, just quieter, which somehow matters more. The survival piece, not the surrender. Do you have more work like this published here?
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I keep coming back to that line about whispering to the moons. The fighting back part, too. There's something real in that.