Identity

I’m so scared of losing myself. I’ve switched between so many faces That I don’t know which one is real. I keep bending to what others need. The only thing I recognize is this feeling— Chasing after some kind of love. It’s been etched into me so deeply That it’s wearing away my sense of self. I made love my entire identity, Yet I don’t even know what it is. I just want to be held—what’s wrong with that? Is it a sin to chase what I want? I’m tired of writing love songs. Tired of stories that always end in ruin. They tell me to find myself—but where do I start, If a part of me was never there to begin with? I go to bed trying to cry, But no tears ever come. I feel like an empty husk, Moving to the will of others. How do I take my life back? When do I get my happiness?