I'm looking into the mirror, but the person I see is not myself.
In fact, what I see is not a person at all.
All I see are a bunch of labels.
As a kid, the person I saw in the mirror was a person,
Now it's simply a list in person-form.
Libertarian988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMOsumlaKR7
Asexual988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQW0FU8ytB8
Heteroromantic988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKisan7HaZi
Gender neutral988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWLY3K3KygA
Writer988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTT4uvabKG8
Seeker of patterns988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7WtdHvoDAp
Dreamer988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmEjUlNpOA1
Depressed
Overly Anxious988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK5k3LIsEqn
Creative988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTKg3pKqvyf
Introverted988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡigYdNECj3m
These things are what other people see. They call me these things and say, "That's you"988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNEn2LKFcT3
I'm troubled by this; all I see are a bunch of words.988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8o9FHwVxqf
Where is my dirt hair with light streaks of sun that always tries to escape from the grip of my hair ties?
Where are all my pimples, and whiteheads, and blackheads?
Where are the dents my glasses kiss onto my skull?
Where are my eyes, always looking confused and bored at the outside world, because they prefer seeing what's in my own mind?
Where am I?
I'm not here.
I dust away all the labels from my body, and they fly to the corners of the mirror, struggling to buzz back around my head and entomb me again.988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMYQFM9Yu8g
I pick up the word asexual. Yes, this is me. I am proud to call myself this.
I stick it over my waist, so no-one can get past the barrier it sets.
Heteroromantic flies into my eye and I pick it up gingerly, settling its wings over my heart.
Libertarian I leave in the edge of my reality, whispering opinions to my conscious, but not close enough to break anything too delicate for it to handle.
Depressed
Over Anxious
Introverted
I mash them into nothing and blow them away. They are part of me, but they aren't me.
Writer
Dreamer
Seemingly similar phrases that are enemies always at war. Writing earns its place, leaving dreamer to find a new home
Seeker of patterns fades away before I can even get to it
I pick up gender neutral, it whispers lies into my ear
You are me because you are not like the others988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaulyKJlBLd
You are me because you see things differently988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpz2Y2A7kKS
You are me because there is no better place to put you988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgJYMdpFJn2
Its words make my stomach a hurricane as I break it apart and remold it to form a single word: girl988Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmHblbXWVng
The world may see me as the lies, but my heart knows the truth, drags it into the ring to beat out the darkness the lies cause.
As each and every label is put in its proper place, I no longer see the human of labels or even where each piece of the puzzle connects in this jigsaw.
The only thing I see is the girl with pimply skin, flyaway hair, glasses, confused eyes and a personality like no other person has ever made a mask of
I see me, my own skin, my body, my mind.
I'm looking into the mirror, and I see myself.
ns18.221.124.95da2
