Me.

Words slip between my fingers but the ink tattoos itself to them. I need to listen, but I misspeak at every chance. Second-guessing is second nature and over-thinking is the norm. Touch might transfer my feelings, and I don't want to burden you. If I stay away long enough, I might become who I want to be and then I can be complete. For now, I'll make do and smile often. Laughter will echo off the walls of my mind and etch itself into sky. Footprints will be left in the grass until I learn to fly. I run to leave and I run to come upon myself, that far off speck on the horizon that I can almost reach. I am so close to shedding all my insecurities, but a door appears and I go back to the beginning. I could shut myself in and be perfectly happy. I might be missed but it wouldn't last. I'll find someplace new and I'll never forget the old me that you knew.