Unapologetic

I sip the silence like bitter wine, masking the tremble behind my spine. The bottle’s not glass, but a glance I deflect, a memory sealed in a room I neglect. I joke like a shield, I laugh through the pain, each punchline a tourniquet tight on a vein. Truth festers quiet where no one can see I’m dying in private, but smiling for free. The mirror knows more than I’ll ever tell. It stares with a judgment I wear far too well. Every scar’s stitched with threads of “I’m fine,” while shame draws the borders outside every line. There’s comfort in chaos I crafted alone, a kingdom of coping I've claimed as my own. I kneel to the gods of distraction and fear, praying the past won’t echo too near. I know there are hands that would offer their light, but pride grips my throat in the dead of the night. Help feels like weakness, admitting defeat so I march through my hell with unblistered feet. But deep in the marrow, a whisper remains: You’re not just your damage, you’re more than yo...