Echo in the fog
I’m stuck in the silence between ticking clocks,
Where time moves forward but I stay locked.
Feet in the mud, mind in the sky,
Everyone's flying, and I don’t know why
I’m still grounded—wings never grew,
Or maybe they did, but I never knew.
I walk through crowds like I’m made of glass,
See-through smiles as they hurry past.
They don’t see the cracks I hide,
The slow bleed of hope from deep inside.
I scream in thoughts too loud to say,
But they nod and look the other way.
The world’s a race I never joined,
A chapter skipped, a page disjointed.
Everyone’s living some brilliant plan,
While I can’t even tell who I am.
A shadow staring in a mirror's glare—
Is that me? Or just someone there?
I smile, polite, when they ask how I’ve been,
But they never wait for what lies within.
Just “good,” and a nod to keep it clean,
While I drown softly, out of scene.
I laugh too loud, I fade too fast,
Try to belong—but it never lasts.
I crave a voice that hears my soul,
Not just the shell, not just the role.
Not "you’re fine" or “you’ll be okay,”
But someone to sit in the dark and stay.
To hear my silence, feel my ache,
To see the heart beneath the break.
Some nights I wish for something more—
A purpose, a spark, an unlocked door.
But most nights I just disappear,
Behind my smile, behind my fear.
Falling behind in a world that spins,
I don't know where the end begins.
Still I rise with each new day,
Wearing masks to look okay.
But inside, I’m still that unseen child,
Lost in a world too loud, too wild.
Just waiting—aching—to be found,
In a place where silence makes a sound.
Copyright © Keara Mallison | Year Posted 2025
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