I see you seeing me,
the looks you try to hide,
my kids, my family, my mates,
all stood there at the side.
I know you’re worried,
I know I look half gone,
I know you’ve watched me breaking
while I’ve said I’m carrying on.
Truth is, yeah, I am breaking,
I won’t dress that up nice,
I’ve barely slept in weeks,
and tired doesn’t cover the price.
My brain’s been running riot,
no brakes, no bloody rest,
ADHD kicking doors in
while grief sits on my chest.
They can’t give me what might slow it,
not with my heart in play,
so I’m stuck inside this noise
that never shuts away.
And I know I shouldn’t have read them,
those reports I can’t unread,
because now my mind keeps painting
what happened when my brother was dead.
It wakes me like a warning,
it follows me through the day,
a picture I never asked for
that won’t piss off or fade.
Then there’s my health, my body,
more worries in the queue,
more reasons meds get questioned,
more things I can’t undo.
So yes, I’ve had the whiskey,
more than I probably should,
not because it fixes anything,
just because silence feels good.
I’ll slow it down, I know that,
I’m not calling it a cure,
it just cuts the noise for hours
when I can’t take any more.
But hear me when I say this,
and don’t twist what I’ve said,
I know the grief of suicide,
I’ve seen what it leaves behind instead.
I know the guilt it passes on,
the questions with no end,
the way it breaks a family
and bends the strongest men.
So I won’t do that to my children,
my family, or my mates,
I won’t leave them holding pieces
with my name attached to ache.
I’m too stubborn to stop walking,
too awkward to give in,
too proud to let the dark thoughts
pretend they get to win.
So I’ll keep putting one foot forward,
even when the ground feels steep,
even when I’m running empty,
even stood on tired feet.
I’m not asking you to stop worrying,
I’d worry too, I swear,
just know I’m still here fighting,
even when I’m barely there.