I try to be soft, invisible
but somehow I still break things.
Every word I speak feels too loud
every silence feels like failure.
I keep fixing pieces of myself
that no one ever asked me to change.
But I do it anyway
in hopes that someone might finally stay.
I smile so they don’t see the cracks
laugh so they don’t hear the ache.
And when I’m alone
I count all the ways I could’ve been better.
They joke about how I’m too sensitive
how I always take things to heart
but if my heart wasn’t so open
would I still be this invisible?
And every night I promise myself
tomorrow, I’ll try harder.
I’ll be better
I’ll be enough.
Even if they never say it
and deep down I know
no matter how much I try
it’s never enough to be me.