Every day I peel off layers, hoping the real 'me' is underneath.
But some days.
It feels like there's
NOTHING THERE

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I question my own reflection - am I real, or just
a thought lost in thought?

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I became a prisoner of possibilities,
locked in the
'what ifs' I never chose.

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I am tired today.
Tired of being good Of shaping my words and actions like glass,
So they don't cut anyone, but always end up cutting me.

Every kindness feels like a shard in my chest, Splintering quietly,
As if caring too much is a sin in a world that’s forgotten how to feel.

I smile, I help, I hold back storms
And yet, I’m the one left in ruins.
Like goodness is a silent poison,
Seeping through the cracks of my soul.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it, This endless giving,
This slow breaking behind a gentle face.

What if being good.
is what’s breaking me?
I watch people walk away
with pieces of me they didn’t even notice they took.
They call it warmth, not knowing it was fire from my own bones.

They praise the light,
but never stop to ask what it costs to shine like that in the dark.
And still,
I carry on quietly folding myself smaller
to fit the space where others feel safe,
even
when there’s no room left for me.

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You cannot break an already scattered glass

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Where emotions once bloomed, silence quietly takes root in the ruins of a broken heart.

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Underneath the vast, unending sky,
it's me, my silent hopes, and the moon
that keeps my secrets.

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Some smiling face has a darkness of pain in it
but their smile
makes a shiny path
to overcome it.

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Every drops of tears is more painful when the love is lost without expressing itself.....

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I don't want to be RICH,
I want to change the definition of
MIDDLE CLASS

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