I am sitting in my office right now
with the door closed, crying.
I don’t have any particular reason to be sobbing
It just feels good.
I’ve decided to make some changes
and I am not sure if they are to protect my frailty
or to expose me to something challenging
so that I can continue to grow
but it is happening anyway
I’m in the middle of a stair case
and if I would just move one leg forward
I would be, somewhere, else.
perhaps that is where the tears are streaming from
a place of not knowing, an intimate place
where I paint the new picture of me
one that acts on what it believes
how can I say we are all the same
how can I say I love everyone
and I laugh in the face of those who are different
I make fun of the ones whose diability isnt the same as my own
how can I say I am a leader when I am always out front
showboating
shucking and jiving for the crowd
for their applause
for their likes
its not love
its entertainment
I’m in the middle of a stair case
and if I would just move one leg forward
I would be, somewhere, else.
I am becoming just entertaining and when do I get to take
off any of my masks?
When I am alone, in my office, with the door closed
and there is no one to see how hurt I am that I am
not rich and thin and pretty
how hurt I am that you decided that I was not worthy of your love
how hurt I am that my name is synonymous with a good time
so I cry about it and it just feels good
I feel washed I feel like spring
I feel like I can shed a few layers of dead skin and move on to bigger and better things
I feel like since I am alive I can try now to be nicer
to be genuine and to shrug it off
when they don’t care, they dont see me
just go on living my life and doing my best and smiling
for real, not just for him.
My Mind, My Mood, My delicately poisoned pen... 