Worn Names

They called me names that weren't my own Built me from things I'd never shown Dressed me up in borrowed pride Told me who I was inside I wore their words like second skin Too tight to breathe, too loud within Smiled through roles I didn't choose Each one a name I had to lose Worn names hang heavy on my back Echoes of a scripted track Their voices shaped the way I speak But left me hollow, soft and weak I tried to shout but used their tone Until my voice was not my own Now I walk with shadows cast By all the selves I left in past I scrape the letters off my face To find a quiet, nameless place One where I can just exist Without the weight of their insist If I'm a blank then let me be Not what they wrote but finally me No titles carved into my frame No meaning tied to worn-out names I'm not the label, not the claim I'm what survives when you take the name If I'm a blank then let me be Not what they wrote but finally me No titles carved into my frame No meaning tied to worn-out names