I died every day, but no one saw,
No headstone carved, no mournful law.
Just silent screams behind the eyes,
And smiles I wore as perfect lies.
I walked through crowds with shattered grace,
A ghost with skin, a fading face.
Each sunrise came like rusted knives,
Another day to fake my life.
The world kept spinning, loud and fast,
While I clung tight to wounds unmasked.
They called me strong, but never knew
The weight of simply pushing through.
Hope became a stranger’s name,
Dreams just ashes in the flame.
My laughter cracked with hidden pain,
A drizzle masked as pouring rain.
No one heard my quiet plea,
Buried deep where light can’t be.
Loneliness, my closest friend,
Walked with me till bitter end.
But still I rose, though bones would break,
Each breath a choice I had to make.
To live, not well, but just enough,
In battles small and mountains rough.
I died each day in silent war,
And lived again to die once more.
If ever you should pass me by—
Please look beyond the practiced lie.
For some of us, survival means
Living life in fractured scenes.
Not every death is loud or grand...
Some bleed quiet where they stand.
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