The Blade of the Shade

 The Blade of the Shade

There, my feet cling to an invisible string,
Stuck as the tears refuse to spring.
The sting of cold winds grasp like a fling,
Yet inside, a fire begins to sing.

The lingering gaze we all must feel,
Sweat dripping, masking what’s real.
Our voices shut as the whispers grow,
Inside my head, chaos starts to blow.

I try to speak the words unspoken,
But the chains within leave them broken.
Guess the words will stay locked in a cage,
Their echoes drowning in a muted rage...

They mold me into someone not my own,
A stranger shaped from seeds they've sown.
They think they can fix me,
Shape me to fit how they see me.

But it’s me who knows the truth of me,
Yet so silent, it drowns—I can’t scream.

How can I judge those who judge me,
When I’m the one I cannot redeem?
Doubting myself, I begin to steam,
Words left unspoken, lost in the stream.

Like a ballerina bound to her stage,
I dance to their rhythm, locked in a cage.
Grace in my movements, pain in my chest,
Wearing a smile while I suppress the rest.
Twisting and turning, I glide through the fight,
Though my heart trembles, I dance through the night.

How can others brag about who’s wrong,
When I’m the one who left my side all along?
My thoughts crawl like spiders up the drain,
Quieting the squeaks of mice in vain.

But through the silence, a whisper grows,
A voice that fights against what I know.
Beneath the weight, I find my breath,
A spark of strength, defying death.

For though they shape me, twist and bind,
It’s my own soul I’ll still find.
In the shadows, I stand tall,
A truth unbroken, despite it all.

-Sheeza

Note:

Hey everyone,

I’ve been reflecting a lot on how others shape us—how their judgments, their expectations, and their assumptions can sometimes feel like chains wrapped around us, pulling us in every direction. It’s easy to lose ourselves when we’re constantly trying to fit into the molds others create. But even in those moments when it feels like we're stuck or broken, there’s always a part of us that refuses to be snuffed out. There’s still a spark inside that fights to be heard, even when we’re too afraid to speak.

This poem is about that silent struggle—the way we try to speak our truth, but it gets trapped. It’s about the feeling of being molded into someone we’re not and the tension between who the world wants us to be and who we truly are deep down. And even when we’re buried under the weight of others' expectations, there’s still that quiet rebellion inside of us, trying to rise above it all.

So here’s my question for you: how many times have you felt like you couldn’t speak out, or like the world was pushing you to be someone you’re not? How much of yourself have you had to hide or hold back? And how do we begin to find the strength to stand up for the truth of who we are, even when it feels like no one is listening?

We all deserve to rise above the weight of others’ judgments. No matter how often we’re pulled down, we have the power to stand tall and stay true to ourselves.

Stay true to yourselves. The world doesn’t get to define you.

P.S. If you're interested in more thoughts and reflections like this, make sure to follow me on Instagram @gobeyondthetrends for daily updates.