I press play, and the world shifts—

a guitar screams, a piano whispers,

and I slip between the cracks,

never quite fitting into any note.

One song gives me fire,

another pulls me to the floor,

but when it ends,

I’m still here—

no clearer than before.

I chase rhythm like it’s a heartbeat,

try on voices like borrowed skin,

but none of them hold me,

none of them are mine.

Maybe I’ll never find my song—

just a ghost in the music,

fading into nothing when it’s over.