I stand at the edge,
The dark pulls like gravity,
Whispers of release sweeten the air,
And I wonder, for a breath,
How easy it would be
To just let go,
To stop fighting the current
That drags me under every day.

The weight of the world
Isn’t on my shoulders,
It’s in my chest,
Creeping in like a storm cloud,
Stealing my breath,
Turning my skin cold.
Anxiety claws at my lungs,
Depression sinks its teeth in my veins.
Together, they make me numb,
Yet burn me alive.

But then—
I hear them,
Laughing, crying,
Their tiny hands reach through the fog,
Anchor me to the earth,
Reminding me of a reason
That doesn’t fade,
That doesn’t shatter
Like everything else.

Some days I’m strong,
And others I just survive,
But their voices echo in the silence,
A lifeline when the dark is winning.
I pull myself up, bruised, scarred,
But not broken.

There are moments I stand tall,
Moments I sink back to my knees.
This fight doesn’t end,
But neither do I.
Because in their eyes,
I see the light I can’t always find within,
And that’s enough.

Enough to keep breathing,
Enough to try again tomorrow.
And that’s where hope lies—
In the trying, in the rising,
In knowing that every fall
Is just another step toward
Finding my strength.