How many monsters do you see?
The ones staring at your dreams.
The ones wearing your fears.
The ones that show up in your own voice, whispering “You’re not enough.”
Do you stay to fight?
Or do you quit, pack up, and let them win?
The street doesn’t ask for pity. It doesn’t clap when you panic.
It watches.
It watches your silence.
It remembers your scars.
It counts your steps when the world turns its back.