𝚂𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

──── ୨୧ ────

They hand me lines I’ve never known,
Say, “You’ll grow up, you won’t be alone,”
Like love’s a train I have to chase,
A finish line, a saving grace.

So I perform. I laugh on cue,
Wear painted smiles like people do,
A mask so tight it leaves a mark,
A spotlight stitched into the dark.

They ask me who I dream about,
Like silence is a thing to doubt,
As if a heart must burn and break
For it to count, for me to ache.

But maybe I am not the stage,
Not missing scenes or “coming age,”
Just something honest, quiet, strange,
A sky unmoved by weather’s change.

──── ୨୧ ────