it’s sad.
it’s sad how they trade their souls
for a pinterest board,
for a boy who won’t even remember to text back.
it’s sad how once,
you could just exist
loud, clumsy, alive,
spilling laughter in the wrong places,
wearing yourself without shame.
now they live behind glass,
scrolling through strangers’ lives,
practicing a look
that says i don’t care,
when really,
they care too much.
they wear borrowed faces,
borrowed words,
borrowed dreams
trying them on like hand-me-downs,
hoping one might finally feel
like skin.
and it’s sad,
achingly sad,
that they don’t know
how beautiful it would be
to just breathe as themselves,
to stand in their own body
without apology
not a copy,
not a mask,
not someone else’s dream.
-Angelica Dsouza.
© 2025 Angelica Dsouza. All rights reserved.