row after row discovering my wardrobe all over again
cutting out tags and rebellious strings
I touch the fabric that makes me beautiful
and run my fingers through my straight hair
not sure who I am anymore
because I don't look the same
my heart beat speeds up
and I sense a rush of heat through my face
feeling red and prickly
I search for a mirror desiring recognition
even as I slowly lose my abilty to see clearly
the fuzziness eats up the colors and spreads them out
the lines are no longer there to guide me
with trepidation I tiptoe forward into a soupy darkness
wading through the darkness I see light again
and appreciate it more than ever before
my tongue is alive
I am ready to speak
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