In the quiet of her room,
painted shadows hold secrets,
the weight of silence presses in,
and thoughts swirl like autumn leaves,
dancing at the edges of her mind.
She listens to laughter,
echoing from other rooms,
but it feels like a world apart,
each joyful sound a distant star,
unreachable, glowing in the dark.
Every day she wears a mask,
an easy smile, a nod, a wave,
but inside, a storm brews gently,
tides of worry and whispered fears,
crashing against the solitude she keeps.
No one sees her tears,
they fall like unnoticed rain,
a secret garden of heartache,
rooted deep and wild inside-
she guards it all like fragile glass.
She longs to shout, to scream,
to let the words tumble free,
but the fear of the unknown holds tight,
a chain so heavy, forged in silence,
binding her to a shadowed fate.
The weight grows thicker,
and she dreams of light-
to fade like a breath on glass,
to blur into the background,
an invisible thread drawn away.
Yet in the darkest corners
of her self-made cage,
a flicker of hope dares to bloom.
that one day she might whisper
her truth into the air,
breaking free from the quiet tide.
