All of those years,
I did work to just appear,
Like the girl people invented,
And gave to my name.

It almost feels wasted.
Because it was never about that.
It was always about
The view, from the outside
Looking in.

This girl they created
She sounds brilliant
She sounds radiant,
And when I smile
I almost feel like I can be her
-But when I’m alone-
I know I’m just hurt.

Hurt because-
I was never allowed my own self,
That I had to fail to become a version
I never dreamt up,
And that never existed.
Because she sounds perfect,
And if anyone could reach perfection,
I wouldn’t place my bets on me.

I wouldn’t call myself lucky
That people put me up to the task
Because year after year
It became clear as a speckled mirror
And what I mean
Is that I was still me
With no identity
Holding onto hopes
That I mistakenly latched onto
In the midst of a hoax
Wound so tightly around my neck
Barbed wire rope
It stings what they stuck to me
And how I can’t see through bleeds
I might never have a solid vision
An unshakeable clue
About who I was
Who I am
Before all of you.