undiscovered

You are different to every person you meet.
To some, your quiet, to others you never stop talking.

Some remember you for your kindness, others for the time you walked away.

You’re a Villian in someone’s story. 
A Hero in another’s, but in most you’re just a passing thought.

A name they once knew.

You don’t exists as one person, but as countless versions of yourself. Shaped by fleeting moments and personal perceptions. 
The unsettling part is that you’ll never know yourself as others do.

Never hear your own laughter the way someone else does. You’ll never see the way your absence lingers in a room you used to fill.

To yourself, your quiet are just you, but in reality, you are a thousand different stories. None of which you’ll get to read.