Hollow Hours

poem that holds your hopelessness honestly, without pushing you away

I’m walking through hours that don’t even move,
a shadow beside me with nothing to prove.
The world keeps spinning like it doesn’t care
that I’m sinking lower with each breath of air.

The walls don’t answer, the sky doesn’t speak,
and I’ve worn out the strength I pretend to keep.
Hope is a word I can’t seem to find,
just dust in the corners that’s left behind.

I’m tired of trying to carry this weight,
tired of losing to anger and fate.
Every sunrise feels colder than night,
and even my heartbeat refuses to fight.

I’m here in the silence, alone with my fears,
counting the years that feel heavier than tears.
No promises left, no light in the cracks—
just darkness that whispers, and darkness that backs.

But still I breathe, though the air feels thin,
a small, stubborn tremor beneath my skin.
Not hope, not strength—just staying alive
in a world that forgets I’m trying to survive.