༻᪥᪥᯽🌼᯽᪥᪥༺
As I walk through the lane, each step echoes louder than the last.
Hundreds of eyes meet my single life,
piercing through the layers I try to hide beneath.
Known or unknown, they whisper in silent judgment:
"ʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀʀɪᴇs ᴀ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ."

I feel the weight of their words,
the cold press of winter in my hands,
as if the chill could seep from my skin and freeze everything I touch.
But I was just a child. I didn’t understand why.
So I run—faster and faster,
hoping my legs might outrun the whispers,
the stares, the heavy air that thickens when I breathe.

I search for truth in mirrors,
but the glass only shows shadows of a boy—
distorted, unfamiliar.
"Is that really me?" I ask,
or maybe I lie to myself.
Maybe I’ve become so used to hiding,
even my reflection feels foreign,
an imposter staring back with hollow eyes.

The lane stretches into the night,
but it’s not just the outside world...