I misplaced my love in you, blame it on my running away and these too-big shoes. I gave myself away to the crowd, Found comfort in being diluted, drowned out in this generic loud, in someone who's proud of my shape-shifting, chameleon-tongued sound. I’ve been responding to the wrong name. Lately just a look of loss and the chest pressure of shame. Beloved mistakes hang butchered, in the mirror’s frame. I found myself in a pawn shop, without enough to reclaim.