Misunderstood

Their whispers trail like shifting sands. I search for truth with trembling hands. The mirror shows no fault, no flaw. Still, eyes avert and hearts withdraw. A smile I give, yet none returns. Inside my chest confusion burns. With every step, the air grows thin, A stranger looking out, not in. Do I offend through voice or gaze? This shadowed script, this endless maze. Unspoken rules they all obey, While I, alone, must drift astray. If hearts are doors, then mine will wait— Not slammed, but open. Quiet. Late.