Sometimes

Sometimes, I don’t know who I am.

I hide between who I wish to be

and what the rest wants to see.

There are traces of malice in my acts of kindness,

good intentions tangled in my chaos.

I've forgotten who I am,

trying to remember who I was

while doing what others expect of me.

I stand still, afraid to run.

And when I run, I forget to breathe.

I stay frozen, unable to move forward.

Sometimes, only sometimes, I remember who I am.

My lungs open wide, I breathe again.

A thin veil seems to drifts over my skull,

slides down my forehead,

my nose,

it glide along my chin.

Minutes of clarity, brightness that makes me doubt.

Sometimes, the light lingers for days.

But sometimes, only sometimes, just darkness.