Back then I wore my identity on my sleeve, showing whoever was willing to see, that I was a messy, immature yet smart little girl. My room dyed in pink with dolls and drawings scattered about. Walls covered in medals and certificates, pretty white flowers crawling in the ceiling, and windows covered. All gifted to me from everyone around me
I soon grew out of the room. The newer one looked so blank, with walls of bleak white and a standing mirror reaching to my toes at its heart. I open it, expecting to see a cheerful girl, only to see a boy, ear length hair with a flat chest smiling back at me.
Stunned, I cover it up and walk away. I try to ignore it but the truth has been shown to me. If you stare heart agape at the truth displayed, you’ll end up going blind someday, so I practiced some restraint.
The more I grow up, the more he demands attention. But If he’s to be with me, then keep this under lock and key. If I don't, all will act as though I've got a foe in me. This fragile game of hide and seek, together lost in melancholy. While I dodge and evade what is in my face, my room succumbs to my neglect.
Through all the ways I survive the days, it is unrewarding every day. I’ll never banish all the loneliness. If it’s discovered, what’ll happen to this? The mirror is still covered, it's still all a secret. And it still begs for my time, to see the light of day.
Remain in pain, which will I choose?