Still, I Whisper

People run past, chasing the light, But I’m still stuck in last week’s rain. I say “I’m fine,” but it’s not right, Time feels like a train I keep missing again. Mornings taste like cold coffee and dust. I drag myself through the same old door, Wearing a smile I no longer trust, Like a puppet unsure what it’s smiling for. The clocks laugh loud while I fall behind. Hours melt like ice in my hand. I joke with friends, but it's all designed, Even I don’t quite understand. Keys in my hand, but the car won’t start. “You’ll be okay” feels like a lie. My heart holds snapshots torn apart, Of a version of me I barely recognize. Some days I’m fog, here, but not seen. Some days my bed is a world I can’t leave. I count raindrops, quiet and routine, While life rushes past my sleeve. I miss dancing barefoot in warm summer rain. Now I just watch the hours fade by. Life feels like a song stuck again, I forgot the words, can’t remember why. Still, I whisper into the dark each night: “Maybe tomorrow, I’ll get it right.”