And I am so tired of standing so straight just to prove I'm not broken.
Mine is a room I’ve lived in too long—walls I’ve memorized, a bed still made with hospital corners, dust gathering on the threshold no one crosses. They tell me to be proud. That patience is a kind of power. But power doesn't tremble in the dark wondering if it's still power when no one asks to hold it. my virginity is a burden iv missax
Because the truth is sharper: it's not the absence that burdens me. It's the presence. The constant awareness. The way I measure every glance, every almost-touch, every moment I pull back when I wanted to lean in. Not out of virtue. Out of fear. Out of the strange shame of having saved something no one has ever tried to take. And I am so tired of standing so