It is not the rain.

It is not a deep well, or

anything else dark or dank.

It is not ash and flame.

It is green spring with unacknowledged birdsong,

applause for someone staring into space,

flawless sentences misconstrued,

love that doesn’t count.

It is habitual coffee, untasted,

a once-beloved book, unremembered,

a birthday text, unanswered,

perpetually waiting,

untrusted and feared.

They extend their hands, their arms,

because it's normal.

Like I want to shake, to hug.

Like I don't mind being touched.

But I bear it, just don't offend.

They speak to fill the silence,

because thats what you do.

Like I know what to say.

Like I know how to say enough, not too much.

But I try to pretent, just don't offend.

They look you in the eyes,

because it's polite.

Like I could stand it.

Like I know how.

But I try, not to stare, not to avoid, not to offend.

They are everywhere, always, constant, never ending noise.

'Look at people when you talk to them.'

But I don't remember faces, because I can't bring myself to look.

'Talk to people, it's polite to engage.'

But I'm exausted.

I don't know what to say, how to react, what they expect of me.

I just want space when I need it.

I just want to be me without the dread,

to offend people that don't understand.

In shadows deep, my private Hell resides,

Where whispers echo, where hope subsides.

A haunting realm of doubts and endless strife,

Where failing dreams consume the threads of life.

Within this void, the weight of expectations lay,

A heavy burden I bear, day after day.

The specter of failure, a relentless foe,

Condemning my spirit, dealing each blow.

In this abyss, where darkness seeps and creeps,

Regret's bitter taste forever lingers and keeps.

Each stumble, each stumble, etched upon my soul,

A constant reminder of the price I pay, the toll.

But amidst this torment, a glimmer shines,

A flicker of strength, a hope that intertwines.

For failure's embrace, though painful and harsh,

Can kindle resilience, ignite a new spark.

I'll rise from these depths, with newfound might,

Embracing the darkness, transforming the plight.

For even in failure, there's wisdom to glean,

Lessons to learn, and a chance to redeem.

So let my private Hell be a battleground,

Where resilience and perseverance are found.

For from the ashes of failure, I shall rise,

Stronger, wiser, with purpose that defies.

And as I journey through life's winding maze,

I'll face each challenge, unyielding in my ways.

For my private Hell, though daunting and tough,

Shall shape my spirit, and that is enough.

My private hell bound and suffocated me

emptiness and sorrow wouldn't let me be.

It settled in deep and stayed close near by

my worthless unvalued voice echoed it's lies.

I felt the despair as it draped it's ownership

staked it's claim and ruled with abusive grip.

It drained my will to live bright triumphantly

and left nothing that could ever comfort me.