The skin I borrowed
blurs the line
between who we are
and who we become.
Not just a drop —
an invitation to become.

Identity isn’t fixed.
It’s worn, borrowed, exchanged.
Some skins fit too well.
Others itch by morning.
β
β
Every edge, every layer — chosen.



I slip.
I shed.
I shift.
β
Never still.
Never finished.
β
β




Keep looking once —
you'll miss me.
Twice —
still a stranger.
I am becoming



Borrowed, broken, or blazing —
each layer a chapter.
Each version a truth.
Each skin —
a borrowed self.
The skin I borrowed is about identity β the versions of ourselves we wear to belong, to survive, to be seen. Some feel true. Some we outgrow. Some we never chose. This drop explores becoming instead of being, layers instead of labels, and the quiet truth that none of us are ever finished.
Ready to own a piece?
