rain plummets
as the storm passes overhead,
painting the canvas beneath.

a clearing in the clouds
indicates the finale,
the endless battle
coming to a close.

silence fills the crowd
surrounding the hole,
more rain collecting in the grass.

will this be a celebration
of the fight ending?
or
will this be a mourning
of the war lost?

to one, a victory.

to others, not.

this way.

this way

i’m tired of being this way

of forcing a smile
that never reaches me,
of pretending positivity
can quiet everything
that refuses to be silent.

i can’t escape the stress,
can’t outrun my own thoughts,
can’t seem to think clearly
or act properly.

and the worst part
is knowing i want to change,
but feeling like
i don’t even know
how to become someone
who can finally breathe.

someone who can blink
without tears falling.

it remains

it keeps knocking,
begging to come in
and introduce itself.

introduce itself as peace,
as a new way to sing
in a world of silence.

silence that echoes
through the halls,
numbing to the mind.

numbness that will disappear,
but never stay quite gone
as the roof begins to crack.

the cracks scatter
and foundation cries,
unable to withstand the weight.

the weight of it all,
crashing down with force,
leaving only the door.

the door,
in which the knocking
continues.

epilogue

the windows stay shut,
but the breeze still finds its way in-
an unwanted whisper through the cracks
no one bothers to seal.

the branches claw at the roof,
like Death attempting to
take the last breath
i never wanted to keep.

some mornings,
the mirror forgets to show me
at all-
reminding me how
empty i am.

and the storm clouds-
they keep lowering themselves,
inch by inch,
like they’re trying
to carry me quietly
away.

maybe i should let them.

i think i will.