I speak in whispers,
but my thoughts scream loud,
Echoing through empty halls,
where no one’s allowed.
“Calm down.”
I tell myself — stern, but weak.
But my pulse races faster,
my knees start to creak.
I step outside,
and the world feels tight,
Eyes that I don’t see
cut sharper than light.
“Just breathe.”
But the air feels thick,
Like a thousand opinions
are pressing in quick.
Do they see my trembling hands?
Do they hear the war inside?
A battlefield where I stand,
and every judgment collides.
“Stop caring.”
But how do I let go
when the weight of their gaze
anchors me below?
I wear my smile
like a mask for the brave,
But behind it, I’m drowning,
a wave after wave.
“They’re not watching.”
But I feel their glance,
Each one a needle,
a tightening stance.
I hear their whispers
even when silence reigns,
A chorus of judgment
that etches my veins.
“Why do you care?”
But the answer is lost —
In a sea of “what-ifs”
and the weight it has cost.
I talk to myself,
but I’m talking to you —
Do you know how it feels
to wear this view?
To feel the world’s eyes
wherever you go,
To carry their silence
like a shadow below.
“You’re fine.”
But am I?
When I’m trapped in my skin,
Fighting a battle
that no one can win.
Maybe one day,
I’ll silence the stare —
But until then, I’m caught
in the weight of the air.
