I keep forgetting that I am me.
That I am ‘Kiara’,
Smart and immature and competitive and deeply flawed and conceited and shallow.
With no actual purpose.
A being meant to only convey emotions ‘I’ would.
I keep forgetting that I can’t be reckless,
I keep forgetting that I can’t be brave.
That I can’t just one day decide to snap and break no matter how much I want to,
So I sink.
I think of it as a dream, one I cannot escape,
And do not want to escape at the same time.
Pinching myself doesn’t make it any less of a dream,
But I keep doing it to comfort myself.
I keep forgetting that I am supposed to be me.
Sometimes, when my mind gets lost in the storm,
And the thoughtless sails have broken off,
I sit motionless, waiting for the next command,
except I am wearing the captain’s clothes,
Yet I command no one.
As if my body, my being is no act of resilience, instead, a vessel I am not allowed to control.
Here, I stand still. Here, I keep waiting.