I’m not ready, to show my face.
To forget my mask, and show my cracks.
I haven’t lived, as who I am, or want to be, or need to be.
I cannot find, the part of me,
That’s fine with others seeing me.
I’m scared to show, what they don’t know.
And live without my safety rope, of a faceless illustration.
I’m just not ready, so please let me, stay a little longer.
But it’s plain to see, anonymous, I define me.