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It's My Mental: A Poem on Hidden Pain

A short poem on hidden pain and mental health — for the ones who keep delivering, performing, and winning while the inside is quietly collapsing.

The hardest version of any low is the one nobody around you can see. This poem is for that version.

It’s my mental!

I wonder even if they know

How much I hurt

Even though I’m always

Killin’ like Colonel Kurtz

It’s my mental!

Some of us deliver, perform, ship, win — while the inside is collapsing. That gap between visible-you and actual-you is its own loneliness. The poem isn’t a fix. It’s just a flare gun: I’m here. It’s harder than it looks.

— JTC

Stay close to the words.

New verses, twice a month. No spam — just words built to linger.