Identity

I look in the mirror but I don’t recognize who I see. This face, comprised of eyes, lips, nose, cheeks and the rest, once was familiar to me; but no longer. Now is it the face of a stranger, a face of someone I was never meant to be. Too many masks have been worn over the years, too many lies have been told, and too many scars have never really healed.

Through the masks I lived my life, switching whenever need be, I had a smile for every occasion; ones that were terrifying or beguiling, or any number of other things in between. I had no identity, save that which I required for the situation at hand. I was nameless, faceless, fleeting in existence and ever-fading from memory. I was a stranger everywhere I went.

I continue to look in the mirror and begin to cry as the realization washes over me— I cannot remember who I am. Before the lies and masks and shifting of identities, I was someone. I was a child with hopes and dreams, but now… Now I am a stranger to even my own eyes. Now, I cannot recall who I am.

I slam my fist into the mirror and watch it shatter from the force. I feel a part of my spirit shatter with it. I am a ghost, even to my own eyes, and I am a face with no identity.

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