Some pain doesn’t have neat language. Some days, all I can do is write through the wreckage—through the sensory overload, the internal storms, the silent battles no one sees. This poem came from one of those days. The kind where everything hurts louder, and my mind feels like it’s fighting itself just to exist. But even in that chaos… I’m still here. --- Still I Stand by Caleb The ground beneath me shatters, screams— Ripping through the seams of dreams. Lights like knives pierce through my skin, Noise like thunder tearing within. I’m fracturing, splintered, bleeding raw— A storm that’s clawing every flaw. I want to vanish, drown, combust— In endless darkness, in broken trust. My mind’s a cage of jagged glass, Reflections shattered, none to grasp. Even I can’t map this hell, A prison built in silence, swell. Some days the noise will never cease, A brutal war with no release. Other days, a wildfire rips my soul, Devouring every fragile whole. I want to scream—rip out my core, Escape this...