am i still stumbling?
I move through the mornings made of glass.
each step a tremble, each breath a struggle.
the world,
too loud.
the ground is close, the sky unsure.
nothing is steady, nothing is pure.
still, I stagger.
still, I tremble
still, I haven’t managed to hold it all together.
so ill continue,
the world getting,
louder
and louder
and louder.
Copyright ©
Rat Rat | Year Posted 2026
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