authenticity has always come easy,
not for lack of anxiety.
merits of originality, often mistaken for novelty.
but i am not all grand gestures,
despite your skepticism, maybe my sincerity
is really that beautiful.
my mother reminds me,
that i have always been like this -
running around as a whole self.
my eyebrows pained from frowning,
my cheeks red from smiling,
knocking on a friends door to check-in.
feelings that fall flat when forgotten -
how could you forget me?
if i can love all of my shades, why can't you?