"The Other One"

I wear a face, but it is not the only one. Behind my skin, another lingers, patient, watching through my silence. Its hands are heavy on my head, prying open my eyes, forcing me to see what I would rather forget. Is it a guardian, or a prisoner waiting to take my place? Sometimes it whispers truths I cannot bear, sometimes it lies with a voice that sounds like mine. The world sees only one of us, but in the dark, I feel the weight of two. And I wonder— when I finally break, which one will remain?