I Just Want To Be Me
I’ve worn so many masks
I’ve forgotten the shape
of my own breath.
Every reflection
a stranger with my eyes —
painted smiles,
borrowed voices,
movements rehearsed
to survive.
I am tired of mirrors
that lie with kindness.
Of clothes that hide
who I am
beneath who I was
expected to be.
I am not soft,
not sharp —
I am the space between.
The question
without an answer,
the echo
without a voice.
And still—
somewhere inside the static,
beneath the noise,
beneath the ache,
a truth hums quietly:
I just want
to be
me.
Copyright © Sarah Moncada | Year Posted 2012
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