Names Written in Invisible Ink
Names Written in Invisible Ink
Once I wanted to be someone worth shouting for in crowded rooms
Drew blueprints on the backs of bills, built futures out of daydreams and cartoon afternoons
My hands ached for the weight of things I thought I’d one day hold
I traded quarters for promises, spent hours carving destiny out of stories I was told.Teachers circled my name on pages, said I had “potential” like a secret code
I swallowed that word whole, let it sit under my tongue, waited for it to explode
I rehearsed grown-up versions of myself in the dark, lips mouthing titles that didn’t fit
Practiced victory speeches to the shower head, imagined standing tall, never wanting to quit.My father once said I could be a king if I could just keep my head
But he never saw the weight of disappointment bruising the sheets where I bled
He never saw the trophies I built from losses, the medals made from days I didn’t run
Never watched me shrink into the clothes of a man who forgot what he was supposed to become.I wore ambition like an overcoat—heavy, too warm, stitched with all the wrong thread
Sat through interviews pretending my failures were lessons, wishing I’d stayed in bed
I have lived a thousand almosts, chewed on regret until my teeth went dull
Been the stranger at my own celebration, the only sober man in a room too full.Somewhere along the hallway of years I set my dreams down to rest
Swore I’d pick them back up, but they disappeared, left stains like ink on my chest
The mirror asks questions I can’t answer, not with this face
Every morning a negotiation, every night a caseOf “maybe tomorrow,” “just one more try,”But the world doesn’t care for apologies or the grit behind my sigh.Now I hold a résumé written in white lies and crossed-out intentions
A head full of memories that taste like forgotten inventions
I walk through these rooms haunted by ghosts of myself
Each one holding a piece of a life I left on the shelf.I forget the names I once tried to claim, forget the fire that pushed me to run
All I remember is silence, and questions that burn—What do you do when the only thing left is what you are, not what you were meant to become?