Morphing

Twenty-three and locked into a journey by a choice that silenced my voice, though I kept striving beyond restrictions.

Older now, at last allowed access to who I was before shutdown: something aching for profound transforming.

But a new set of dictates converges to charge – as if natural for me to march to such arbitrates!

Reflections in the mirror proclaim severe next level struggles to represent ideal integrities.

Who I was is returning, yet someone new is emerging.

It’s confusing when control teases as illusory!