I've missed you, I've missed sharing my life with you... I've missed our conversations...
I've missed that greatest self... The self that was sacrificed in your presence... And now I've neither that nor you.
Changed into someone who never was before recognised...
No one to see, barely being,
not much to offer,
Just disconnect and loss of sense of self.
Fake imagery, false persona,
All becoming blind.
But in matters of reality
The vulnerable and less exciting version.
Underneath the disguise of a flamboyant flamingo standing out among a flock of fleeting pigeons,
Only to discover that you can't paint a pigeon pink and call it a flamingo.
You can't sellotape peacock feathers to a turkey and call it a peacock.
Yet dye my hair mad colours and wear wacky clothing and immediately people think of a passionate creative socialite.
Neither of the conformist nor the nonconformist.
Neither good nor bad.
Not the softest of individuals but then again Not the hardest.
And that is that.
Could have been someone...
Sounds like an awful lot of responsibility.