The Weight of Obedience

I wore their dreams like a second skin, threads pulling tighter than my own breath. Every nod I gave wasn’t mine— it was theirs. My fire buried, my voice folded into silence. Now the halls I walk echo with "what ifs," ghosts of choices I never dared to claim. Love should not have cost me myself. Yet here I stand, a statue carved by hands not my own. ~Eve/Isa.