mythoughtspill.com

Slipping into silence, slow and thin,
Shadow stirs beneath the skin.
Bright rooms blur and fade,
Light dulled by creeping shade.

Smiles become a mask too heavy to wear,
Laughter echoes cold, stripped bare.
Thoughts like raindrops, soft but steep,
Gather in the cracks too deep.

You don’t fall—no sudden blow,                                                     
Just drift where nothing seems to grow.
Each day, a hush, a hollow breath,
A quiet dance with something like death.

The walls are closing in.