You can Look, But You Can't Stay

It’s dark again!
Not just around me, but inside too.
I think I’ve forgotten how it feels to be warm… not skin-warm, but emotionally warm.

I wasn’t always like this.
There used to be colour in the world, or maybe I just imagined it because everyone else seemed to believe in it.
I used to believe in colour.
In something soft, something alive.
But now… it’s just stars.
Cold, unblinking, afar!
Like eyes watching me, but never seeing me.

I cried once. For real.
Over someone who didn’t even know how much space they took up in my heart.
I don’t cry like that anymore.
Now it’s just… black streaks.
Like the universe is bleeding out of my eyes, slowly.

People always talk about heartbreak like it’s loud and chaotic, but mine’s a whisper.
A silent scream only I can hear. A slow fading.
Like I’m being gently erased in places no one sees.
Like when you laugh in a room full of people and no one turns.
When you say “it’s fine” and your chest tightens like it knows you’re lying.

I still laugh sometimes.
I still talk, still walk through rooms, still answer messages.
But there’s this part of me… that never came back.
Like it stayed behind with them.
Or maybe it drifted off like a signal no longer being picked up.

I stay awake.
Not because I want to see more, but because I’m afraid if I close my eyes, I’ll disappear.
But watching the world hasn’t helped.
It just reminded me how small I am.
How replaceable.
How forgettable.

I don’t want to disappear.
But I also don’t want to be found by someone who doesn’t recognise me.
That’s worse, I think… to be seen, but not known.
So I stay quiet. I stay small.
I let the stars watch.
They never ask questions, anyway.

And if you’re looking at me now, if you’re really seeing me,
maybe you feel it too.
The weight.
The longing.
The hollow.

You can look,
but please… don’t stay.
You’ll end up like me!