Dan Enache Poet Free verse

The Softness of Before

The Softness of Before

You walk into rooms begging your own forgiveness for existing,
believing that small enough silence could make you invisible.
But they see the crack in the smile that lingers half a second too long,
the joke sent out ahead, a shield thrown at the question.

You wear confidence like a coat that still smells of someone else's rain,
you remember mirrors from before they became courtrooms,
now every reflection is a chamber where you're both judge and judged,
and morning is a negotiation between who you are and who you wish to be.

You shed your skin often — hair, laugh, music — like a snake that never stops molting,
gathering yourself from films and songs, from people you wished you were,
hoping that one day the collage will finally feel real —
a golem stitched from borrowed light, still without a soul.

But at night you feel a hole in your chest, like a bell with no question to answer,
nobody tells you how exhausting it is to feel this deeply,
to replay conversations like photographs developing under red light,
to miss someone before they've even left, like a clock running backward.

You want to be read to the very last line, with nothing skipped,
but the moment someone gets close, you want to vanish like smoke through fingers,
they call you dramatic, sensitive — a storm labeled fragile,
while your mind is a city that never sleeps, sirens in every room.

Ordinary days turn cinematic, every song becomes a memory,
every hallway becomes a metaphor, every closed door an unwritten verse,
and every small rejection is a verdict carved deep into bone,
proof that you were never enough — the softness lost to the ether.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment