The Cost of Being Seen

I learned that some doors only opened after I had already become the key

And by the time they welcomed me inside there was never enough of me left to notice I had never really entered at all

Every mirror became a witness, every glance a verdict, every silence another bill I paid with borrowed skin

Because it is easier to undress than it is to unravel and people rarely ask which one hurts more

They said I was beautiful... and I mistook that for irreplaceable

They held my body so tightly that I never noticed my soul had slipped quietly through their fingers

Or perhaps I was the one who let go first

How strange that I could memorize every curve of my reflection yet remain a stranger to the person standing inside it

I knew exactly how to be consumed but never how to be kept

I became fluent in disappearing while still taking up space

Leaving pieces of myself in rooms that never remembered my name

Wondering why I felt so empty when everyone insisted I had so much to give

Now I cannot tell whether I built my own altar

Or simply mistook the butchers table for something sacred

But either way I was taught that love should leave marks

And only later discovered they were fingerprints not promises

So when someone says they want all of me I no longer wonder how much I must surrender

I wonder whether for the first time they mean everything that cannot be touched.