Imagine living life inside a tiny box.
You can’t breathe they might hear, can’t cry they might see
All things are held deep within, waiting to crush you under the weight
This is how I feel.
No longer in that box, but mentally it is my existence.
Cold inside yet ready to break at any moment.
No amount of time could erase the pain.
Knowing the past is over, and forgetting are very different things.
What’s left is survival, and hope for improvement.
I am exhausted, but there are battles still to come.
Life has made me strong, yet I feel tired.
Older now with wisdom earned through hardship, I find new ways to remain intact.
It is hard to relate with others, as their life struggles are different than mine.
Few are allowed into my world, and I do not trust easily.
Trust must be earned with me, each act of harm or deceit placed into memory.
I won’t claim this to be healthy, but life demands it.
Being naive can cost dearly, and time is nonrefundable.