searching for self

Sometimes I wonder who I would be

Without your expectations of me

Your reality forces itself into my own and erases any sense of self I believed I had

So who would I be without your presence?

Since my existence is just an extension of your phone line

Looping me into your endeavors, efforts, ideals, and identity.

Searching for self, unaware of where she is

Maybe I am not a phone line, 

I am not an extension of who you are or who you wish me to be. 

But I’m tired of your words flowing through my lips, constructing how I view myself within this world. 

I’m tired of your voice being what I hear when I look at myself in the mirror.

They tell you to heal, but they don’t tell you of the emptiness that lingers when you realize all you’ve ever known was the broken, distorted version of you.

Sometimes I fear that I will never know who I am without you there, without your shadow lurking 

I often think of how I would laugh or talk without you nearby 

How my lips would form the words I speak when you’re not seen by my eyes

Maybe one day, I will be able to figure out how to be myself without you here

Or maybe that’s the day I find out who I really am