I’m playing with my identity
Putting on costumes until one of them fits me
How do I live instead of merely existing?
Who am I when other’s perceptions aren’t involved?
Am I an open book or a mystery to be solved?
Am I an amalgamation of past experiences
Or the potential for the future?
I didn’t know how multifaceted a person can be
Until it came to figuring out myself
Because I’m working on being independent
Yet romance books always make me melt
I’ve changed from a year ago
And I know that next year I’ll be completely new
So when will I be able to look at myself in the mirror
And say
“I’m so happy that I’m you”?
Who I am is malleable
But what will happen when it’s set in stone?
What if I need more time?
Will I always have this room for growth?
These costumes never fit just right
But I’m scared for when one will
For what is more terrifying
Than a personality standing still?