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.
Libertarian981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9fnS5aUQM8
Asexual981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU8zmSMFkzO
Heteroromantic981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRZdwkbPrHC
Gender neutral981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4KcN3OfuhK
Writer981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPOsoWjdIyo
Seeker of patterns981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd1S16xH16W
Dreamer981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPbaY2GP38V
Depressed
Overly Anxious981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHQNAdUaiAd
Creative981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDFnUJjN6tq
Introverted981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWfstZEiWUT
These things are what other people see. They call me these things and say, "That's you"981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCbvZjY3BTK
I'm troubled by this; all I see are a bunch of words.981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdfOOtg1byW
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.981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaYUx5p56bI
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 others981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWSBwAjLn1C
You are me because you see things differently981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ38G70GEMN8
You are me because there is no better place to put you981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv82UUi2HwY
Its words make my stomach a hurricane as I break it apart and remold it to form a single word: girl981Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfDyY1syKte
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.
ns18.222.227.24da2
