*Your skin is not paper so don’t cut it,*
Because paper can be torn away,
But your skin has carried every silent battle
You never spoke about.
It remembers the days
You smiled when everything felt heavy,
The mornings getting out of bed
Felt impossible,
The nights tears soaked into pillows
While the world slept.
Sometimes sadness feels loud,
Like thunder trapped inside your chest,
And sometimes it feels worse—quiet.
The kind that makes you think
Nobody would notice if you disappeared.
But pain lies.
People notice small things about you—
Your laugh,
The songs you play too much,
The little things you think don’t matter.
*Your neck isn’t a coat so don’t hang it,*
Because coats are left behind,
But you were made to stay.
You were made for better days,
For laughter returning unexpectedly,
For moments you cannot imagine yet.
Sometimes life feels unbearable,
Like carrying storms nobody else can see.
People say, *“You’ll be okay,”*
As if healing is simple.
But healing is messy—
Crying without knowing why,
Feeling tired all the time,
Trying your hardest just to survive the day.
*Your body is not a book so don’t judge it,*
Because your body has carried you
Through sadness, fear, and exhaustion,
And still whispered,
*“Keep going.”*
You are not numbers, mirrors,
Or cruel thoughts.
You are a person—
A universe of memories, fears, dreams, mistakes,
And reasons to stay.
*And your heart is not a door so don’t lock it,*
Even though hurt makes people try.
You say *“I’m fine”*
When really you mean,
*“I don’t know how to explain
How heavy everything feels.”*
Maybe the saddest part
Is how many people hurt quietly,
Smiling in classrooms,
Saying *“good thanks”*
While carrying oceans inside them.
But hearts were never made
To carry oceans alone.
Needing support
Does not make you weak.
Sometimes the strongest thing someone can say is,
*“I’m not okay.”*
So if someone feels like they are breaking quietly,
Please know this:
You matter more than your hardest day.
The world would notice your absence.
People would miss the little things.
So please—stay long enough
To see what tomorrow brings.
Because storms do not last forever,
And somewhere ahead,
A future version of you
Will be glad you stayed.
