Honesty is hard
when you have spent so much of your life
not being honest.

When you have hidden who you really are
and contorted yourself
into a version that suits everyone better.

I want to jump out of my skin,
and you ask why.
It doesn’t fit anymore.
That version of me is gone.

I am this one you see before you now:
short sometimes,
wanting to spend time inside my own head,
wanting something and somewhere else.

I am restless.
I don’t want to think about where to live in six years.
I don’t even know where I want to be tomorrow.

I am this one now,
and this is enough.