@wordsleave.scars: I watch them change faces like seasons, borrowing fragments from every soul they meet, until I can no longer tell where they end and someone else begins. Some of them even reach for pieces of me, wearing my silence, echoing my words, chasing the reflection they could never become. I often wonder what it feels like to wake up each morning without a voice that truly belongs to you. How strange it must be to spend a lifetime collecting borrowed identities, yet never finding your own. Perhaps the saddest thing is not becoming someone else but forgetting you were never yourself to begin with.

mnn.

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Friday 24 July 2026 08:25:36 GMT