A Thousand Different Stories

To some you’re quiet, hardly there,

To others, talk is all you share, 

One knows you for a gentle hand,

Another for the walk you spanned.

A villain in a tale retold,

A hero draped in borrowed gold,

Yet most forget you soon enough,

A passing name, a fleeting bluff.

You do not live as one, but more,

A thousand selves, a shifting shore,

Each shaped by eyes you’ll never see,

Reflections that belong to thee.

You’ll never hear your laugh the same,

As one you warmed beneath its flame,

Nor watch the silence that you leave,

In rooms that linger, rooms that grieve.

To you, you’re simply only you,

Yet in the world projections grew,

You’re countless versions, torn apart,

A thousand stories in each heart.

Cathrine Hottran 2025