The ceiling stares, unblinking in the night,
My pillow soaked with fears I cannot name.
What if my twin is gone before first light?
What if my skin invites a bullet’s aim?
A laugh escapes while Teddy fills the screen,
Good Luck Charlie plays, and I feel less alone.
But chaos hums beneath each softened scene—
A voice that says, “You’ll break, you’re on your own.”
I dream of rice and beans I cannot taste,
Of teaching truth and being seen as threat.
I smile while doubt and panic interlace—
A storm I carry no one sees just yet.
Though hope may flicker, fear will still remain—
A black hole mind that dances with my name.
MD Cashdollar 