I learned how to edit my sentences Before they even leave my mouth How to turn myself into someone safe When certain topics come out
There’s a version of me at dinner That they think they already know Careful laughs, careful answers Careful places I don’t go
And I hear the pauses change tone If the subject ever shifts Like love has rules in this house And I’m something that doesn’t fit
So I keep it tucked away Like a secret I can’t wear Not because it isn’t real But because I’m scared
And it’s strange how home can feel Like somewhere you have to hide Like being fully yourself Wouldn’t be allowed inside
So I learn to speak in silence In the spaces in between Where I hope they don’t look too closely At what I actually mean
And every “that’s just a phase” Every joke they think is fine Feels like building walls around me One sentence at a time
And I’m not trying to start a fight Or make everything collide I just wish I didn’t have to split My truth into inside and outside
Cause there’s a version of me they get The one I’ve learned to play And another one I keep hidden Just to get through the day
And I don’t know when it gets easier To live in halves like this To love in a language I can’t speak Without risking what exists
But I know I’m still becoming Someone stronger than the fear Someone who won’t disappear Just to make others feel clear
So I’ll keep my truth carefully For now, I’ll stay unseen But I won’t stop existing fully Even when I’m in between.
