There’s being invisible, being a mirage, and then being yourself.
There’s desiring to be beautiful, trying to be beautiful, and then being yourself.
There’s contemplating being wanted, wanting to be wanted, and then being yourself.
There’s being confused, pretending not to be confused, and then being yourself, happy to be confused and not know the answer.
There’s wanting to escape to a liminal space where you exist in both worlds, but only just as a shadow, flitting between the flicker of eyelids, peeping over the premise, moulding into recesses
lost, scared, quiet, confused
wanting to be yourself, waiting to know yourself, knowing you know yourself, then figuring out how to portray yourself.