Sullen eyes snap open to a broken world,
Visions place me clearly now.
What’s made me, me, has all unfurled,
Signs of pretense will not be allowed.
Did the world know the real me,
Or just the image that they’ve seen?
Living for so long with the goal of fitting in,
That I’d always missed the irony;
For when you win, you lose,
And when you lose, you win.
Fitting in, sometimes, takes us further from our truth.
Tried so damn hard to be unique,
But to avoid, at all costs, negative critique.
Never realized the mouths that spewed the worst,
Were never deserving of a reactive outburst.
An entire lifetime of unexpressed rage,
Piqued my evolution to it’s final stage,
Where from a cocoon I’d finally emerge,
To a life I’d never, yet, always deserved.
With fire behind these glossy eyes,
Creating streams of steam upon my cries.
The fire never stopped to burn,
But at least the tables, now, had turned.
No more room to play it safe,
After realizing a truth that chafes.
The secret to a life, fulfilling,
Was to be unique, confident and willing.
It lays in living through one’s soul,
In expressing your inner world in whole.
An inner truth made so fucking visible,
It’s now out of your control.
There can be no room left for contraction,
To an old life left behind.
No room left for any redaction,
Or to slowly rewind the hands of time.
Be so exposed as who you really are,
That you shine through the nights,
Like an ever-visible, twinkling star.