Calligraphic Soul

I find, that when I write,
I cannot hide

Pen to paper,
Numerous imperfections,
I’m perfection,

The one and only me.

And yet,

I find, that when I type,
I can hide

You see me as a ghost
A spectral echo
Cast among the shadows of men

Where doubt and false confidence
Breed assumptions
And expectations

While a mere reflection of me
Is lost, somewhere
Deep within the holograms written

With the hope of growth
And self-discovery.