Existential Identity crisis.
It's hard to draw yourself
when you have no idea who you are.
People go so long doing the same things,
but there always comes a time where
everything becomes a single motion.
After doing that for so long,
I have no idea where I stand anymore.
It's not that I'd rather be anything else,
but I'm just not sure I feel as comfortable
in my own skin as I used to be.
I don't even know what brought on these
crashing waves of uncertainty.
I have plenty of things that I've yet to experience,
yet I feel like
I've felt so much.
I've known what it is to be unwanted,
hated for things that I didn't do,
called pretty for a meaningless shell
that I'm supposed to represent
Sometimes I wish that
people would see the raging soul first ,
and the body that holds it second.
Maybe it's because I love how I am
more than what other people think I look like.
There wouldn't be a method
to my relentless madness.
No one would ask if I was okay because
they would know that the answer was always no.
I would go through my days hoping
that no one would ask why.
Though I long for a time when people could really see me,
many times I'm glad that they don't.
This shell if a hideous costume to conceal the
hideously beautiful human inside.
Maybe I'm not okay with that either.
Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace.