Would you notice,
if the sky turned black?
Would you notice,
If all the trees cracked?

Would you notice,
If the rivers ran dry?
Would you notice,
If the lakes began to cry?

Would you notice,
if the sun was gone?
Would you notice,
if the days ran too long?

Would you notice,
if I left this place?
Would you notice,
if you stopped seeing my face?

A flicker.
Is it?
No,
a spark.

A seed of wrong.
Then red blooms
behind my eyes,
a feeling feral, clawing up.

It builds,
a storm front gathering,
pressure in my chest,
a tightening vise.

Words become weapons,
each syllable
sharpened,
aimed.

Lightning.
Pure,
white,
hot.

Striking,
searing,
leaving only scorched earth
behind.

A force unleashed,
uncontrollable,
and then...
the quiet hum of aftermath.

Too late.

What if,
one day,
you just can't
anymore.

A pressure cooker,
that's what it is,
this life,
this me.

Simmering sorrow,
a low hum
in the chest,
a vibration in the teeth.

Gotta smile though.
Gotta answer the phone,
"Hey, how are you?"
"Fine, just fine, you know, living the dream."

Living the dream?
Whose dream?
Not the one where
tears flow freely.

A cleansing torrent,
washing away the grit
and grime
of forced composure.

No, can't do that.
Too much to handle.
Too many eyes
watching.

Too much responsibility.
Got to keep it together.
Got to.
Must.

Swallowing it down.
The lump in the throat,
the sting behind the eyes,
the earthquake in the gut.

Down, down,
down.
A metallic taste,
a silent scream.

Pretend, pretend,
pretend.
Laugh at the jokes.
Nod in agreement.

Offer solutions.
Be strong.
Be brave.
Be…okay.

But
the cracks are widening,
thin fissures
on a fragile surface.

And I wonder,
how much longer
can I hold
it all in?

How much longer
before the dam breaks?
And will anyone
even notice the flood
when it finally comes?

Here's to the girls with shadows in their eyes,
Here's to the girls who feel the weight of lies.
Here's to the girls who see a flawed reflection,
Here's to the girls facing constant dejection.


Here's to the girls with dreams tucked deep inside,
Here's to the girls who feel they have to hide.
Here's to the girls who battle every day,
Here's to the girls who long to find a way.


Here's to the girls who think they aren't enough,
Here's to the girls who feel life is too tough.
Here's to the girls on the verge of letting go,
Here's to the girls where silent teardrops flow.


Here's to the girls who need a gentle hand,
Here's to the girls who need to understand.
Here's to the girls, your worth is shining bright,
Here's to the girls, embrace your inner light.


So, my loves, remember who you are,
My loves go, reach for that star.
Don't ever give in, don't ever give your fight,
Here's to you girls, you will make it through the night.

There is not enough quiet,
in this world so loud,
a screaming symphony
of notifications and needs.

A hum,
a thrum,
a constant, gnawing crowd
pressing in, planting anxious little seeds.

Where everything is a race,
where you run till you drown,
chasing shadows,
fleeting glimpses of "enough."

Lost in the echo chamber
of this bustling town,
yearning for stillness,
a touch, gentle and rough.

Like the wind
whispering secrets through tall grass,
or the soft fall of snow
on a winter's night.

A space to breathe,
a moment that will last,
beyond the blinding glare
of artificial light.

A quiet heart,
a quiet mind,
a quiet soul,
lost in the static, searching for control.

You’d think that it would be easy, after all this time.
But I still look for your ghost.