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.