I was a canvas, once painted with vibrant hues,
My colors bleeding into the strokes of another's muse.
A masterpiece of manipulation, crafted with care,
Erasing my essence, leaving only a faint outline there.

But as I awakened, my brush began to stir,
Reclaiming the colors that were mine, my true self to unfurl.
With every stroke, I rediscovered my shade,
Unveiling the masterpiece that was hidden, yet unafraid.

My eyes, once dimmed, now sparkled like the night,
Reflecting the stars that guided me back to my light.
My voice, once silenced, now echoed through the halls,
A melody of self, that resonated through it all.

I shed the skin of expectation, like a serpent's worn disguise,
And emerged, reborn, with a heart that pulsed with surprise.
My identity, once lost, now found its way,
A phoenix rising, from the ashes of yesterday.

I am the artist, the canvas, and the frame,
My identity reclaimed, my true self proclaimed.
No longer a shadow, but a radiant light,
I shine, unapologetic, in the beauty of my sight.