Quiet Collapse #

i laugh,
i smile,
and it’s all a lie.
the mask stretches across my face like it always does—
habit, muscle memory.
but underneath, i feel cracks forming,
quiet, subtle, breaking apart,
like i’m shattering from the inside
and nobody sees it.
i express everything,
and none of it belongs to me.
happy, sad, angry,
whatever’s needed at the time.
it’s like wearing someone else’s skin,
a puppet show—
and i’m not the one pulling the strings.
i just give the commands,
“be cheerful,”
and my body plays along,
“be sad,”
and suddenly everything freezes over.
but i feel exhausted,
even after eight hours, ten hours,
hell, even after sleeping the whole day.
i wake up feeling like i’ve run a marathon
but haven’t moved an inch.
my bones are tired,
my mind’s a mess,
and i can’t tell why.
i want to talk to someone,
but how do you even start that conversation?
“hey, i’m drowning, but don’t worry, i’ll manage”?
yeah, right.
nobody’s got time for that.
everyone’s caught up in their own mess, their own lives.
and really, who am i to throw my shit on top of theirs?
i’ll just make things worse
i’m a tree falling in a forest full of trees,
and even if i crash to the ground,
who’s going to notice?
who gives a fuck?
i don’t know if i matter anymore.
maybe i never did.
it’s been forever since i’ve heard something good,
something that even resembles appreciation.
it’s like i’ve been erased—
scratched off the list of people who matter.
maybe that’s fair.
i mean, what have i ever really done for anyone?
nothing.
i’m just… here.
taking up space, without anything to offer.
worthless.
there used to be walls,
tall, solid ones,
but now they’re crumbling.
slowly, piece by piece,
falling apart right in front of me,
and i can’t even move to stop it.
i cry, over nothing.
i get so mad at the tiniest thing.
i’m losing my grip,
on myself,
on what’s real.
even my friends don’t feel like friends sometimes,
more like people i used to know.
i push them away,
but i don’t even know why.
and the weird thing is,
i’m never really alone.
i’m always around people,
talking, hanging out,
yet there’s this wall, this invisible fucking wall
separating me from everyone else.
even the ones i care about.
i can see them,
they can see me,
but we’re not in the same place.
i’m sinking,
dissolving into something dark,
something endless.
and i have no idea when the falling stops,
or if i even care enough to stop it.