You’re not sure if pretending to be the person you want to be is faking or self-love but no matter how one carefully crafts such a character, or how well you cover up the skin underneath, your flesh will always peek through.
You envy those who don’t need a mask or wall to protect them. You try to tell her that when you paint yourself into someone new, it’s because you can't let them see what's underneath. you are playing dress up in your own skin, trying to scribble out who you are.
You have dried and hardened this persona, creating your own Trojan horse. But inside, is still a scared little girl, huddled up and shivering from the cold you put inside yourself.
You can no longer find the line between the two of you.
You are no longer sure you want to.
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