A polite shell

Coming from a closed shell she mistook for privacy,

present in rooms but never remembered.

“There you are—

how long have you been here?”

As if she had just arrived instead of always being.

She lived like a shadow—

not because she had to,

but because silence fit better than attention.

In corners, she learned people—

eyes sharp like a falcon’s,

collecting truths she never spoke.

Apologies lived on her tongue,

even when no one asked.

And somehow, that quiet life felt safe.

Until she chose someone. 

A friend—or at least,

something close enough to risk.

Then came the voices, louder than her thoughts,

pulling her out of herself. 

Step by step,

she left the shell behind for a wider world

full of smiling faces that didn’t always mean it.

That was where she learned

how heavy a word like betrayal can be.

How it sits uninvited in your chest. 

And suddenly,

the silence she once feared felt softer 

than everything she had found outside it.