poetry

56

the burden of breathing:

i breathe every day.
in, out, like its nothing,
until the moment someone reminds me
and suddenly, im aware.
each breath a conscious effort,
a tug-of-war with my own lungs.

i hear it now
the quiet gasp,
the shallow rise and fall,
the way the air scrapes my throat,
and i wonder if anyone else can hear it too.

i watch myself
every step, every glance, every word,
measured, rehearsed, performed.
dont stand out. dont fall behind.
dont be different. dont be wrong.

because being wrong means you dont belong,
and ive spent my whole life trying to fit in.
trying to be the silent shadow
in a world that demands noise.

but sometimes, i forget how to breathe.
sometimes, the air sticks in my chest,
and i wonder if ive ever truly known
how to be me without breaking.

they expect me to smile,
to wear this effortless strength
like an armor i never asked for.
but behind this mask, im crumbling.

its exhausting
carrying their expectations
like stones in my pockets,
pretending the weight doesnt drag me down.

and when i try to scream,
the sound gets lost somewhere between my lips and my heart,
because screaming isnt part of the script.
its not what they want from me.

so i play my part.
i wear the smile, i breathe in silence,
and no one knows how hard it is
to keep pretending.

but im so tired
tired of being small enough to disappear,
tired of bending myself to fit the shape
of what they think i should be.

and im breaking inside.
each day, a little more cracks,
a little more of me lost to the void,
until i dont even know who i am anymore.

maybe i never knew.
maybe im just a collection of what they told me to be,
and i dont know how to breathe for myself.

but im tired of holding it in.
tired of suffocating under the weight
of their expectations, their smiles,
and the endless, crushing silence.

i dont want to forget how to breathe again.
but i guess i have to.
because i have to do whats expected of me,
always.
i cant let anyone down again.
so ill bear this burden of breathing once more.