No More Chameleons

These flowers are who they are. Sometimes a drop of water on the surface seems to give a deeper view – or at least more detailed.
I used to think I was hiding – behind bangs when I was a kid, by not being “visible” as an adult. But I never strayed from myself. The me that I am is always there, always apparent. Sometimes the drops get you in a little closer, sometimes they don’t show anything you didn’t know, but I’m way far away from thinking I’m a chameleon. Which I never was, but fooled myself into believing. The ruse was mine, nobody who wanted to see me didn’t because of anything I did.

We’re all just flowers. We are.

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