I been living in reflections,

chasing shapes that shift when I reach for ‘em.

Been standing in funhouse mirrors,

trying to figure out which version of me is real.

Maybe I ain’t ever known.

Maybe I been making myself up as I go—

new face for every season,

new mask for every room I walk into.

Not to deceive,

just to survive.

I mean, who am I

when I ain’t playing the role they expect?

Who am I

when I ain’t the strong one, the reliable one,

the one who laughs when she really wanna disappear?

What’s left of me when I stop shapeshifting?

When I stand still

and let the silence answer?

I been running on fumes,

but illusions don’t hold weight,

and I’m tired of carrying empty things.

Tired of pretending I don’t see the cracks

in the image I built.

So today, I let the smoke clear.

I let the mirrors shatter.

I let the world see me

exactly as I am.

And if they don’t like it,

at least I know it’s real.