slowly dissapearing

I don’t want to hurt anyone,

I just want to be held

like someone worth keeping.

But my mouth is filled with knives—

sharp words that slice

before I can stop them.

My heart hides,

my mind regrets,

my body aches

with guilt I can’t name out loud.

I feel like a child

lost in a world too big,

scared of shadows

only I can see.

I try.

I stop.

I ruin things.

And I’m sorry.

God, I’m sorry.

But I don’t know how to be different.

They say people should love you

just the way you are,

but what if I hate who I am?

Sometimes I believe

I'll die alone,

haunted by voices I once called home,

echoing with disappointment

and words I never had the courage to speak.

Still, I write this,

because maybe someone will read it

and know what not to do—

how not to disappear

into the silence

that kills you slowly

year after year.