I was an ethereal shadow in the corridors, a whisper of denim and shy glances floating among them
I was an ethereal shadow in the corridors, a whisper of denim and shy glances floating among them,
Invisible in their noisy bustle, a ghost with a too-polite smile, always on the edge,
Their notes flew like grenades, exploding into laughter that tore through the silence eating away at me inside,
I wore their words like a second skin, tight and stinging, yet unseen by their indifferent eyes.
You once asked if I was okay, but your gaze slipped away before the truth could crawl out,
Still, your gesture was kind compared to those who carved stories in my name without asking for mine,
I screamed, but only inside, where echoes got lost in the corners of my chest, suffocated by silence,
My mute cries reverberated in the caverns of my soul, but no one heard them, no one sought them out.
I wore invisibility like a shield slowly turning me into a shadow of my own being,
Each day I rebuilt my wall of silence, brick by brick, hope by shattered hope,
The locker room was a battlefield where my only weapon was to go unnoticed, to melt into the background.
When I disappeared, they asked, "Why didn't she say anything?" as if silence isn't something taught by those who pretend to listen,
As if my voice hadn't been muted by their passing glances and the laughter that always excluded me,
As if I hadn't tried to scream through every timid gesture, every forced smile, every unshed tear.
Now, the echoes of my silence dance in the empty corridors of their memories, unanswered questions floating in the air,
And I, the ghost I once was, look back at the invisible girl and whisper to her that one day she'll find a voice,
That there will come a time when her words will resonate so loudly they will break down the walls of imposed silence,
Filling the locker room with her long-hidden truth, transforming the echo of pain into the symphony of her own liberation.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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