Maybe it's all me,
Maybe it's all in my head,
Maybe it's the way I imagine things to be,
Maybe it's how I perceive the world around me.

But why does it hurt so much?
Why do I find myself crying every day, caught in these thoughts?
Why does my heart ache with every imagined scenario?
Is the pain just a reflection of my fears,
Or is it something real, hidden beneath the surface?

Were my tears just illusions,
Was any of my suffering genuine?
In the quiet moments,
Do I find comfort or just deeper loneliness?

People quickly say it’s all in your head,
They don’t try to understand,
Eager to judge rather than support,
Keen to change you instead of helping you heal.

Maybe these thoughts and imaginations are what have kept me going,
A way to cope with the harshness of life,
An anchor in the sea of uncertainty,
A light in the darkness of my own mind.


© The dead lily

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