i am everyone.
i pull on faces, left and right, dozens of them.
Personalities scattered on my bedroom floor,
Waiting patiently for their turn in the sunlight.
i have a face for each day,
For each person,
For each place,
For everything.
i am everyone for everything.
When you cried on that windy autumn day, i was your mother.
When you laughed to me about your new boyfriend, i was your skeptical best friend.
When you told me your darkest fears over tea, i was your therapist.
When you didn't believe in yourself, i was you.
i work for the poor,
The wicked,
The lonely,
Everyone.
i am everyone for no one.
Yet i am nobody. i am but a shell of existence,
A figure of relative mass,
A shadow. These faces are all i know.
Face after face, i pull them on and smile.
Hoping to convince you all,
i am human too. Am i human too?
i am no one.
i have personalities and faces innumerous.
Piling all the way to my ceiling,
As i search desperately for the real me.
Do i fit this face?
Or this one,
Or this one,
Or this one?
i am no one, never found.
