“Who are you really?”
I asked them
They said names. Of people, places, religions and colors.
They were not that. Nobody is a name.
Now I ask you
“Who are you really? ”
Let me tell you…..
You are not your name. Your weight. Your height. Your age. Your religion or the name of your country.
You are all your favorite books. You are the song stuck in your head. A chord or two imperfect. Imbalanced. Crafted by imperfections. You are the dreams you see in your lidless eye when you lie awake at 3am. You are all those mistakes handcrafted by those tears that flowed down your cheeks.
You are the memories you recall when your mind feels empty. You are all those heartaches you had. You are those worried times. You are the feeling of your first love. You are the sigh of your hard work.
You are the color of your favorite flower. Of the painted sky at dusk. You do not belong to the places you have been. You belong to yourself where you first were, still are and always will be.
You are not the person or the gender they say you are. You are the floating dreams you have when your mind shuts off. You are all those thing you wish to be. You are all those things you have seen.
People don’t see who you really are instead they call you a name and make you a million things you are not. They say your name like it came with you when you were first here. They dont know its just a tag. Not the identity.
You are what you are going to be.
That’s what you are.
A shout out in the void.
A whisper in the crowd.
A dip in the ocean.
And most importantly all the things that have made you the person you are today.