Sun Don’t Shine

I’m always where the sun don’t shine.

Not because the sun is gone, but because somehow it never reaches me the way it reaches everyone else. I can see it. I know it’s there. But warmth feels like something happening somewhere else, to someone else. Never here. Never fully mine.

Some days feel like sitting under a sky that never clears. Grey skies, white lies, and a head so full of noise it starts to sound like truth. I keep sinking into places that don’t really exist, but still manage to hold me there. Quiet places. Heavy places. The kind that make you feel absent even while you’re still breathing.

There are moments when I feel so far gone that I think I’m already broken enough for nothing else to damage me. Like whatever hurt was supposed to hurt has already done its job. And what stays after that is not even pain anymore, just numbness. A terrifying kind of numbness. The kind that makes everything slow down and spin at the same time. The kind that shakes you from the inside while the outside of you tries to stay still. I can feel myself gasping for air, trying to catch my breath, while something deep in me trembles like it already knows I’m not okay.

It feels ordinary. Familiar. Almost structural. I used to think pain would always arrive like fire, loud and undeniable. But some pain comes quietly. It settles into the walls. It learns the shape of your body. It stays long enough to feel like part of you.

That’s the part no one really sees.
How numbness can still hurt.
How silence can still scream.
How your body can sit still while your soul is in complete panic.

Everything around me starts moving too fast. My thoughts turn into enemies. My head becomes a place I can’t safely stay in, but can’t escape from either. And suddenly I’m trapped in this changing maze, setting my soul ablaze, trying to understand what is happening to me while it’s already happening.

This piece comes from that place.
The place where the sun exists, but not for you.
The place where you keep going, even when you feel like you disappeared a long time ago.
The place where being alive can feel more exhausting than being gone.

And maybe that’s the hardest part to explain.
Not that I was sad.
Not that I was hurt.
But that I was here, and somehow not here at all.