Forever trying to run and hide,
Beneath so many masks – don’t know what’s left inside.
Becoming so often what others want me to be.
Only ever showing them what I want them to see.
I can produce charm and confidence.
But in the end, its only a weak defence
Afraid to make those real connections.
My soul wants to shatter at its own reflection.
You challenge me to only be myself,
Buried somewhere beneath the front I put up for everyone else.
Sometimes I can no longer separate that real me,
From that which I have shaped myself to be.
Can’t help but wonder – not buried beneath those disguises above-
What could possibly be left of me to love?

Written by Andrew