eh?

I stare in glass, at hollow grace,

A face the world will not embrace.

No stars, no spark, no gentle glow,

Just eyes that scream, “I’ll never show.”

They don’t write songs for eyes like mine,

No metaphors, no sacred shrine.

No one gets lost in this blank sea,

No hearts undone. No poetry.

I’ve seen the girls with sugar lids,

With lashes long like fairytale fibs.

They blink, and men forget to breathe—

I blink, and all the dreams just leave.

So leave it there, don’t twist the end,

No phoenix rise, no hope to lend.

Just tired eyes that watch, unseen—

Not ugly.

Not lovely.

every room feels loud.

like i’m a whisper

in a world of screams.

i try to laugh right,

talk right,

be right—

but nothing fits.

it’s like wearing skin

that don’t belong to me.

like breathing in

and still choking.

maybe i’m not meant

to belong anywhere.

maybe i’m the ghost

in everyone’s story.

here,

but never really here.

loved,

i said goodbye.

meant it.

burned the bridge,

watched the ash.

and yet—

here i am.

tiptoeing back

into the same hell.

familiar faces,

unfamiliar hearts.

they talk sweet,

but their words hiss.

smiles tight,

like they’re waiting to bite.

i don’t trust them.

never did.

but loneliness

is a sharp fucking thing,

and sometimes,

you sleep with serpents

he came with jokes,

all wrapped in trauma.

said “no one gets me”

like that’s an excuse

to hurt people who do.

i held his damage

like it wouldn’t rot.

like i could out-love his venom.

spoiler:

i couldn’t.

he said “i’m done.”

like i hadn’t already

been picking up pieces

he shattered.

click.

unfriend.

silence.

and i’m left with

the echo of a bond

Like they own the world, center stage.

But when I fire back, they play the part,

Of saints so pure, with a fragile heart.

They’ve got the volume, I’ve got the right,

But suddenly, I’m wrong in their sight.

"Who gave you permission?" they snark and sneer,

Like my voice wasn’t made to be heard here.

They yell, they curse, but I’m the one banned,

From raising my voice—ain't that so grand?

No license to scream, no ticket to fight,

If you're listening-

Can you make it stop?

Not the yelling.

Not the silence.

Not even the ache in my chest that never goes away.

Just the pretending.

I'm tired of pretending I'm okay.

Tired of wearing smiles like armor.

Tired of clapping for others when I'm falling apart inside.

Tired of being the strong one just because no one else wants the job.

I'm so tired

and no one notices.

Please.

I found an old photo of me today.

I was smiling like I didn't know better.

I wanted to hug her.

Tell her to run.

Tell her that soon, she'll learn how to smile with her mouth

and not her eyes.

Tell her to hide some part of herself—

some small, sacred part—

where they can't reach.

Because they will try to take all of her.

And she won’t even know

even when I’m sure.

Like the world shifts just to gaslight me,

to make me doubt my own hands,

my own memory,

my own mind.

Like no one listens unless it's to tear me down.

Like every word I say is a threat,

every breath I take is an offense.

I feel watched, cornered,

like my skin doesn’t belong to me.

It’s suffocating—

to exist where every move becomes a mistake,

where even silence is questioned.

I don’t feel safe in my own space.

Not even in my head.

I feel like I’m shrinking.

Swallowed by voices louder than mine,

crushed by a weight I can’t name,

It's easy to say be yourself and do what you want. Sounds so fucking simple when it's coming from people who never had to bleed for every inch of freedom.

But the moment I try... the moment I breathe like I matter...

They pull me back.

Trap me.

Strangle me with expectations dressed as love.

Shut my mouth like it's a weapon.

And it is.

To them.

They leave my body with bruises-some you can see, some you can't.

The invisible ones? They scream louder.

Because I carry them everywhere.

In my smile. In my silence. In the way I flinch when someone raises their voice.

They say fly. But break your wings if you try.

They say speak. But not in whispers.

They say be yourself. But only if that self is someone they can control.

I look around before I speak.

I think ten times before I laugh.

I shrink in spaces I should take up.

I stay quiet because it feels safer than being seen.

Because they made me believe that my voice is wrong.

They built cages out of expectations and handed them to me like gifts.

Smiling while they clipped my wings.

Telling me I'm loved while they drown me in silence.

And when I try to breathe?

They punish me for it.

I'm tired.