I fold myself into smiles I don’t feel, like paper carefully hiding the truth
I fold myself into smiles I don’t feel, like paper carefully hiding the truth,
I walk hallways as if I’m not slowly melting into the shadows of silent walls,
I nod in conversations as if I’m truly listening, but in reality,
I’m just trying to remember what it was like to breathe without apologizing for every breath.
The mirror knows my real name, the one made of sighs and unanswered messages,
I call for help in invisible ways, through silences and through “I’m fine”s that scream softly,
And on some days, getting out of bed feels like an impossible task, as if I’m dragging the moon behind me,
The moon with its dying light, in an effort to bring night into day.
But still, I’m here, not strong, not brave, just present in this fleeting moment,
And maybe that means something, maybe the simple fact of being here is a beginning,
Maybe my existence in this world of shadows and lights is a form of courage,
And in my silence, in my fragile smiles, there is a truth that only I know.
And so, I continue to exist, to breathe, to be, searching for my path through passing days,
In a world that asks me to be someone else, but I keep my name written in whispers,
Remaining true to that part of me that refuses to be lost in anonymity,
And perhaps that’s all that matters, to stay here, to continue to be myself.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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