Born to stand out

Be like everyone else? I wish.

As if I could be expected to be someone I’m not-

to stroll around, only acting cool

pretending to be someone I’m not

Those eyes I want

the hair I need

the clothes that define me

Pretending to be someone I’m not

The image is a fake, they say

too unattainable to reach

yet they expect me to obtain it

To pretend to be something I’m not

Then I see myself

or is that really me?

Is that someone else

Pretending to be something they’re not?

When suddenly all of that is shoved aside

and I see myself for who I really am.

I don’t recognize me because I’ve been

Pretending to be someone I’m not

I stare at this image of me

this thing so innocent and pure,

something that I haven’t made myself,

Something that is only me, the real me.

And that-that is what I have come to be.