A Sentiment of Yourself (Prose and Poetry)

Now, who are you? You have never been true to anyone at all.

You just let them find what you present, study it and analyze, even love you but still would know nothing about you at the end of your display. It has been your practice to open your closet and choose what skeleton you would want to show to them. fancy, a smart one, an artist, you even tagged one with ‘good’: you have your options on what to wear.

But, you still suffer.

You are nearly too late to be saved. You could not stop wearing tagged skeletons now, could you? After all, you do not know who you are anymore. Maybe you knew and forgot, or maybe your true self is long dead just like the skeletons you have.

No one knows the real you and it has always been like that.

You are free and you are not. It is in that way your world mainly revolves. You pour always your heart out and express your feelings out loud, but it is no use, you still have something caged inside you. Buried deep, sleeping.

1. You left puzzle pieces that could never be solved with your words left unsaid despite how vocal you were to them.

2. You have always put an invisible barrier, but then that expanded and got out of your control.

3. You hide regardless of how courageous you could be.

You acknowledge yourself as your villain in the many ways you could not tell the world because if you choose to free it, the world would find a way to cage you back. And if you choose to cage it? It would destroy you as well.

Those have been the reasons why, right? You act and act and act to exist. Just to exist.

You are out of ways.

I just know that all you wanted was to be accepted, but I guess it’s too late.
ㅤ