Who am I? Beneath this facade? A woman, broken by time , dreams left shelved in dusty corners. Tears withheld to mask my whole self. The self who’s fakery is coated in smiles as I say through gritted teeth, “that’s not a problem, I got it.” When every cell in my body is crying, “NO YOU DON’T”.
I’m stuck in these patterns of soul suckery, wherein my little girl-self, not wanting to be seen, to be left unnoticed, to be a friend without friendship, a lover without love, a body, roaming around trying to find myself, my purpose.
Do you really know me? If so, tell me… who am I?
I don’t mean my name or status, wife or mother, sister or daughter, friend or foe… who am I when the lights go out and I’m sitting alone with my thoughts? Am I still the little girl who avoids hurting others, even at the expense of herself? Do I hide my tears, so that others won’t feel sad?
Do you really know me? If so, who am I?
The girl who avoids conflict like it’s contagious. The girl who dreamt of travelling, now sitting as the world continues. Stuck in complacency, wrapped in stress, afraid. Always afraid. Afraid to follow my dreams, afraid that I’ll die, stuck.
Do you really know me? Do you know who I am?
When I cry myself to sleep, hoping that tomorrow will be the day? When I look around, searching for joy that’s not here? When I bite my tongue, to keep my real thoughts in hiding? My real dreams, not just surface level “wants?”
Do really know me?
How can you, when so much of me is hidden even to myself. The wild heart, withering in the shadows. The me who wanted to tackle the world. The me who was not meant to be so quiet.
Do you really know me?
Me… the whole person. The flawed me. The me who is happiest when I’m alone with my thoughts. The me who’s still trying to find my way out of this maze, trying to find out who I really am.
Do you really know me? How can you? I’m still hiding, still hurting, still trying to find my way out into the light.