I wonder if one day
someone will hear me in the silence—
not the words I shape for the world,
but the echoes that bleed
between breaths.

If they will see
how thought coils tight like wire,
how the weight of it all
turns stillness into a scream
no one else can hear.

I wait,
haunted by the hope
that someone might finally notice—
the fractures beneath the calm,
the way I am both present
and vanishing.

Until then,
I remain unheard,
a ghost of myself,
aching to be recognized.

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