I walk through the quiet corridors
of my mind,
echoes of thoughts—some mine, some borrowed—
rattle against the walls.

In the spaces between breaths,
I listen for a voice
I’ve never quite known,
but always carried within.

It sounds like a forgotten song
just beyond reach,
as I sift through the layers
of who I was, who I became,
and who I might yet be.

Each step feels like peeling back skin,
fragile, translucent,
revealing something raw beneath.
A vulnerability exposed to the wind,
where every breath stings, but heals.

The...