who am i now
is it the one who laughs or the one who hides
or both or none
Do I love them,
or the hollow sound they left behind in me?
Do I chase a heart,
or the feeling of being seen
before it slipped away?
why do i run to closed doors
and ignore the hands that shake to touch me
why is the safe always empty
Why do I give myself
to those who will not hold me,
and push away the hands
that tremble to touch?
i am many voices
but none of them answer me
Am I many people,
or just one lost voice
echoing in a crowded room
no one can hear?
masks cling like skin i do not recognize
I am tired of folding myself
into shapes I do not recognize,
of smiling through masks
that itch beneath my skin.
Will I ever stop asking?
Will I ever stop wandering
through the spaces between
who I am,
and who I pretend to be?
am i asking or just whispering to the wind
will i ever stop chasing
or stop pretending
or stop
i am tired
so tired
and yet i keep asking
because asking is the only proof
i am still here