Still alive...?

then why so heavy?

Things are not heavy,

I make them overwhelming,

the silence suffocating—

I make it suffocating,

it really isn't.

The intellect says I need pain--

to feel alive— to breathe,

that I need to make things difficult-

even if they aren't.

…

……………………………….

I feel frozen— stuck— paralysed—

A beating heart in a frozen shell,

A burning fire in an icy hell,

When a gust of wind hits me,

Blows me into movement,

When a shred of hope fills me,

Something crushes my head against the stone,

Smashes me against the cold, hard rock,

Slams me back into the dreaded reality,

Grounds me back and leaves me to rot,

Whether the hand that grabbed me from behind,

Is dead and gone,

Yours or my own,

It always ends the same,

I’m always left the same,

Nowhere.

Nothing.

In this dark, dusted wasteland…

In this poison gas…

In this wretched hell…

I can’t breathe.

I can’t move.

I can’t LIVE.

Just barely survive,

So why, oh why…

Am I still alive?

Zia’s note: Hey there, gorgeous! Thank you SO much for reading this piece! I made this quick little poem with my lovely friend, melon💫, intertwined with true, deep feelings and emotions. We both love you all so much, DO stick around and consider subscribing to both of us, and pledging/upgrading!! :)) ESPECIALLY for my girl melon, she’s VERY underrated and y’all gotta read & support her and her other work — it’s BEAUTIFUL!!!

AND, don’t forget to share, like & comment below!! BYE, gorgeous!!

© Zia and melon💫, 2025. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission from the authors.