I tiptoe through the echoes of these walls,
A shadow trapped within my skin,
Rooms I once knew now feel so foreign,
Their edges sharp, closing in.
No longer do I sit at tables,
For fear of being seen;
Their eyes, like chains,
Bind my silence, unseen.
Each breath I take is borrowed,
Held tight within my chest,
A cage of expectations,
Where my spirit finds no rest.
I dream of open skies,
Where my lungs can fill with light,
Yet here I wither quietly,
As day turns into endless night.
I don't know how much longer
'Til I can break away,
But if I linger much longer,
I'll fade without a say.
Freedom feels like a distant star,
Too far for me to reach,
And I wonder, in my quiet heart,
If I'll find it before I cease to be.
YOU ARE READING
Little Pieces
PoetryA collection of short poems that reflect the ups and downs of daily life, exploring themes of struggle, growth, and the search for belonging. Each piece reflects a moment, a feeling, or a memory, offering a glimpse into the journey of self-discovery.
