Ten years alone, no hand to hold, No mother's arms, no father bold. No brothers near to see me break, Just silence echoing each ache. She gave me money—said, "You'll be fine," But love was never in that line. No words from him, no voice, no care, Just empty space and vacant stares. I kept it in, each silent cry, Each heavy breath, each whispered why. No one saw my first heart break, No one knew how much I'd ache. I wore a smile, but broke inside, Told the world I was alright—but lied. Pressured, cracked, not “good enough,” This life I lived was far too rough. Love was foreign—just a dream, Something I saw on someone else's screen. No one checked when I felt ill, No one knew my world stood still. At seven, eight—I tried to flee, Thought death might finally set me free. But something held me, pulled me tight, A whisper soft: “Not yet. Not tonight.” Still I cry with no clear cause, Pause and wonder, lost in flaws. A heavy weight I cannot name, Yet every day, I feel the same. Oh God, I'm tired. I want to rest, To feel some peace within my chest. But here I am, still holding on, Somehow still breathing, though hope feels gone. If there's a reason, show me why, Why I still wake, why I still try. For now, I’ll write what I can’t say— And hope these tears will dry one day. (Base on real life, my life..)