My Virginity Is A Burden Iv Missax ❲Top 50 PREMIUM❳

Mine is a room I’ve lived in too long—walls I’ve memorized, a bed still made with hospital corners, dust gathering on the threshold no one crosses. They tell me to be proud. That patience is a kind of power. But power doesn't tremble in the dark wondering if it's still power when no one asks to hold it.

They call it a gift, this thing I carry. A ribbon of waiting. A lock without a key yet turned. my virginity is a burden iv missax

Here’s a piece written in a raw, reflective, and deeply emotional tone, as if spoken from the inside of that feeling. Mine is a room I’ve lived in too

Because the truth is sharper: it's not the absence that burdens me. It's the presence. The constant awareness. The way I measure every glance, every almost-touch, every moment I pull back when I wanted to lean in. Not out of virtue. Out of fear. Out of the strange shame of having saved something no one has ever tried to take. But power doesn't tremble in the dark wondering

I'm not broken. I'm just waiting — and waiting has become its own kind of ghost.