I wear the makeup,
the new clothes

My hair is always perfectly curled or straightened
or in a messy bun that I pretend took 20 seconds to form

I get the appropriate amount of “likes” on my status,
a substantial amount of photo comments

I make the joke that everyone laughs at in class, at the expense of the substitute teacher fumbling to regain control

I go to the parties
the concerts
the bonfires

I dance and I smile and I laugh,
all the while numb

You know, I like to write.
I like black and white movies, photography, and cheesy board games.

I like nature, that sweet smell of wind as it wafts through an open window, and being with my family.

I like watching Saturday morning cartoons with my little sisters and cooking and laughing and playing

and
living

a life where I don't have to lie about what music I like, what movie I recently saw, how I feel about politics and
religion and
philosophy

This isn't some cliche piece about finding yourself as a teenager, experimenting, making mistakes.

I don't need to “find myself”
I already have.

I'm just not brave enough to show you yet.