To my broken self

Hello to the 3-year-old who lost innocence early, Losing a world of purity and light. Now grown, shedding a face set to default For one deemed "acceptable" What does your true face resemble now, As you mold to fit in? Do you still grasp the understanding of your expressions? The thoughts haunting your mind, Are they the norm you perceive? Staring at the ceiling, Heart fluttering in panic. Is it fear that grips you, Or a fleeting relief? Does the weighty silence Lead you to seek solace in music? Where do you wander As rhythms loop endlessly? A day will dawn, breaking This cycle of self-neglect. How will transformation manifest? A lily in hand, turning crimson, Or finding peace amidst wilted petals? Eyes meet with supposed warmth, Yet fear misconstrues as judgment. The first syllable of your name Raises goosebumps of dread. Visible and heard, unwanted, In the unmerciful words of others. Sinking deeper into masks, Straying from true selves. Why are your smiles held with Scotch tape and glue, Holding despite the cuts of insults? How do you continue As a mere stepping stone for others? Answers unfold within the hourglass As we journey on, unsure.