January 1st, 2026 · Abbey Lynn Artz

January 1st, 2026

My body and mind are bursting at the seams. Just as I start to think

I can’t possibly hold onto any more sadness inside of this body

that has become just a shell of who I used to be,

somehow,

another drop sneaks its way in,

stretching out my already thinned-skin.

The pain continues to weigh me down

further and further,

and with each new day,

I continue holding on for dear life,

desperately clinging on to anything or anyone that keeps me from hitting rock bottom.

I’m tired, though, and my grip is getting weaker.

I can’t keep holding on to all of this pain,

but I don’t know where else to put it.

So with me it stays,

building up more and more,

each and every day.

How much more can my body allow itself to stretch,

before it starts to tear?

Before I am completely torn apart,

beyond repair?

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