Question

Poem:Holding on
By: Me aka Layla

I am gripping the edge of myself
like a cracked railing over nothing,
fingers slipping on thoughts I don’t say out loud.

Every second feels borrowed
like I wasn’t meant to make it this far,
like the clock is watching me
wait for me to give up first.

My chest is loud
but my voice isn’t,
and somehow that’s the worst part
screaming without sound,
drowning without water,
breaking in places no one can see.

I keep telling myself
just one more minute,
just one more breath,
just make it to the next second
but the seconds stretch
like they’re trying to prove a point.

I don’t trust the night.
It gets too quiet.
It lets everything in.

And I don’t know
if I’m holding on
or just too tired to let go.

My hands are shaking,
not from fear
from the effort of staying.

Because staying
feels like lifting something
that was never meant
to be carried this long.

And I don’t know
if I’ll still be here
when the morning comes
not because I don’t want to,
but because I don’t know
how much of me is left
to keep trying

Answer 1

That's a really beautiful and deep poem. It shows your thoughts and fellings without making it seem light.