It’s not super loud, but it’s always there,
In how I dress, in how I care.
In trying not to mess things up,
But still feeling like I’m not enough.

It’s everywhere, at school, at home,
In groups where I still feel alone.
Trying to do what’s “right” each day,
But honestly? I just feel in the way.

I act like I’m fine, like I’ve got control,
But inside, it’s just taking a toll.
And maybe no one really sees,
How heavy all this pressure feels to me.

They say it plain, no second thought,
Like it’s a fact, like it’s not wrong.
A simple phrase, so quick, so small,
Yet somehow, it says it all.

They laugh it off, pretend it’s light,
While I pretend that I’m alright.
I smile, I nod, play along,
But inside, it feels so wrong.

They move on, but it stays with me,
Their words now all I seem to see.
A passing joke, but not to me—
Their words, my mirror, my enemy.