What Am I?

am i the scream trapped in my throat— too scared to tell the world what it feels like to lose?

am i the mask stitched too tightly to my skin, grinning wide to prove I didn’t break?

am i the shadow curled in corners, afraid of light because it might reveal my failure?

am i the wound bleeding out in silence, too proud to admit I’ve already fallen?

or am I the clever fool— still planning victory speeches for a war I lost years ago, too stubborn to surrender?

in the end, maybe I’m just a hollow echo, filling empty rooms for other people’s laughs.

and maybe that’s the answer: i’m the new clown.