I said I wanted quiet—
now I flinch when I get it.
There’s a hum in the silence
that sounds like regret,
but I don’t name it.
Not out loud.

I still walk like I’m untouchable.
Still flirt with ruin like it’s mine to keep.
But some nights, I miss softness
like a phantom limb.

I ruined a good thing
just to prove I could.
I said it didn’t matter—
and for a while, it didn’t.

But I still think about the look in his eyes
when I turned into someone else.
Like he saw the switch
but didn’t understand the why.
Hell, I didn’t either.

I said “this is who I am now.”
Sharp edges, cold hands, no promises.
But some part of me misses
the girl who didn’t need the mask.
The one who hoped.
The one who let herself want.

Now I’m a ghost in my own body,
faking power I no longer feel.
And winning has never felt
so much like loss.