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Collection of Faces
Collection of Faces
By: Julia Clover
My endless collection of faces
One is a loving daughter
Another, a kind-hearted best friend
A team player
Or an empty face passing by
I switch them out between classes
Each friend group requires a different one
I tear them off and sew them on quickly
For I’ve had years of practice
My first period asks for social
While my second asks for respect
Lunch calls for quiet and soft-spoken
My friends ask for funny
But no one asks who I really am behind each persona
I go home to my parents
They see an apathetic teenager
Who thinks of nothing more than friends, boys, and video games
But not even they know
The depth of my thoughts
Come to think of it now
I can’t think of a time that I’ve gotten to take off the faces
I’ve grown to live and learn behind them
And I rarely let my bare self see the light of day
Everyone sees a different me
And that’s the way I like it
That's the way that seems best for everyone
If they’d like me to be quieter
Softer, kinder, louder, bolder
I do what is asked of me
If I switch faces
Or maybe if I remove them completely
Would you still like me?
Would I still like me?
Would I still be that caring friend
That responsible team captain
Or would I still just be another face
Lost in the sea of complections?
Sometimes I get lost
Trying to find which face is really me
Sometimes I forget to take them off
And sometimes I forget to put them on
“Are you feeling alright?”
“You don’t seem like yourself.”
I smile and nod and rush to put the right face on
But if I was truly myself
Would I seem ugly and horrid?
Like flesh scarred with burns
Or would someone find me incredibly blessed with beauty
In love with who I really am
Beneath the collection of faces
This piece is about the struggle of anxiety, as well as the fear of feeling left out especially as a teenager navigating my way through high school. This poem represents how it feels to have to change who I am depending on what is asked of me, how that can impact me emotionally, and how difficult it is to be growing up in a world full of conformists.