people pleasing

I wear a different face for every room, shifting, bending, molding myself to fit the shape they expect. Their voices fill the air, laughter, questions, demands, I nod, I smile, I give. But when the crowd thins and silence finds me, I do not know the shape of my own hands, or the sound of my own voice. I am everywhere and nowhere, a guest in every space, never home, never whole.