Identity

by Samieh 

She feels really lost, confused, powerless, aimless, no identity and stricken with fear 
lots of fear, but she can’t name the fear, the type of fear that has no basis and can't be rationalised  
she asks, “who am I?” but a speck of dust filled with so much fear and anxiety
she feels consumed with a deep sense of shock, despair and  confusion 
shock for being so irresponsible, for feeling insane, for not thinking rationally, for making mistakes, too many times, for relying on the wrong people, for giving a shit, when she shouldn’t, for taking on too much bullshit, everybody’s bullshit
she just desires to go somewhere where she’s unknown and unseen, even if for a moment 
she feels lost beyond anything she’s ever felt 
she feels she’s been living a fake life
chasing fake dreams, carving fake realities
she doesn’t know who she is, without an identity to cling on to 
who would she be without an identity? 
nothing, nothing at all
is she a girl? a woman? a mother? a daughter? a friend? a status? a title? a job? or perhaps she's a nobody 
she was raised to believe she would be a nobody, and that shame placed upon her psyche has been realised 
the curse placed upon her psyche haunts her to this day, as it's haunted her for decades 
her heart aches for the little girl, who believed the wounded earthly guardians that tormented her, and diminished her worth 
the one's who made her scared of being a nobody, so that she spent forty years tirelessly trying to be a somebody 
like an imposter, desperate to fit in and belong somewhere, anywhere 
when she tried to let go of all the fake identities she’s assumed in her life, she was met with crippling fear,
the fear and shame of being a “nobody”
and having nothing to claim as real
just waiting, in transit, from nowhere to everywhere
from the tormented little girl with a heavy heart 
to a woman ready to release the baggage that never belonged to her
she knew she had to let the fake masks of identity go
and delve in to the depths of obscure abyss, sit there totally lost, isolated and unloved
for once again, like the four-year-old she was nobody and nothing, identity less
but this time, she breathed in the No-Thingness with love, and she knew she’d be just fine, because she was free, and so she was ​