They handed you a suit before you knew your size
They drew a map of a city you never wanted to visit, and told you to start walking
And you did
Because that’s what we do
We carry the "well-done," the "not-enough," and the "what-will-they-think" until our spines start to curve under the gravity of ghosts
It’s a quiet kind of ending
No sirens. No glass
Just the sound of a person polishing a mask until the face underneath simply... fades
We spend our whole lives trying to be the version of us that lives in someone else's head
And the tragedy isn’t that we fail
The tragedy is that we succeed, only to realize we’ve been attending a funeral for ourselves the entire time
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 7:54 PM UTC
They handed you a suit before you knew your size
They drew a map of a city you never wanted to visit, and told you to start walking
And you did
Because that’s what we do
We carry the "well-done," the "not-enough," and the "what-will-they-think" until our spines start to curve under the gravity of ghosts
It’s a quiet kind of ending
No sirens. No glass
Just the sound of a person polishing a mask until the face underneath simply... fades
We spend our whole lives trying to be the version of us that lives in someone else's head
And the tragedy isn’t that we fail
The tragedy is that we succeed, only to realize we’ve been attending a funeral for ourselves the entire time