We Are All Just Waiting

This poem feels like sitting in your room at night, phone in your hand, scrolling through people who look like they've got it all figured out while you're just... waiting. Waiting for someone to notice you, to really see you, to tell you that you matter. It's that quiet ache nobody talks about, the one we cover with fake smiles and posts that say "I'm fine."

But the way it's written doesn't just stay in the sadness. There's this flicker of hope in it too like maybe, even if we don't say it out loud, we're all hoping the same thing: to be enough for someone, somewhere. It's vulnerable, it's messy, it's real and that's exactly why it hits so hard.