The comfort I wish I had

Getting up, wishing the night had never ended— lost in life’s waves, hoping someone would drag me out or take me somewhere quiet, where I could lie on the ground and let the noise leave my head, like you did on a quiet night, and feel the comfort I wish I had. I don’t feel anything— just emptiness in my heart, a heaviness that makes doing nothing feel easier than trying. I wonder when I changed, from someone eager to learn everything to this hollow stillness. I don’t know what happened to me. I’m not close to God, and I don’t know how to rise again. Sometimes I miss the old version of myself. I don’t know why, but life feels too loud for me now. I feel too sensitive, crying over the smallest things I care about, even while understanding so much of this universe. Can I do at least one thing right? I feel like a failure who never learned how to win. I’ve survived so much, yet some days I still don’t know what to do next.