Astonishingly crass and
Brave in all situations
Comfortable in all quandaries
Daring beyond belief
Elegant and poised
Furious and feisty, fueled by anger
Grand individuality with a
Heart of ice and hate
Irreverent and haughty
Jester of pride, sarcasm, and sass
King of bluntness
Lively, rambunctious spirit
Mastermind of
Neuroticism, never in
Oblivion because
Pressure cannot persuade me
Quick to speak out against the wrong for the
Right reasons but truly
Selfish motives
Tainting the
Ubiquitous notion that every altruistic attitude springs from
Very bubbly and confident people
Wandering through life with the Greek concept
Xenia exhibited on the sleeve
Yelling boisterous excitements that could a game
Zoning in on all the end goals

These are the misperceptions
That create me

Agnostic girl full of
Belief in the mirror I
Create behind closed
Doors that open wide when I
Emerge into the terrifying world
Faking so much, so often
Grieving the fear that consumes me
Holistically I am an actress
In a world full of pretenders
Jestering my pride and arrogance
Keeping an ounce of who I really am with
Love from my closest friend
Most nights I can't go to sleep without
Nodding along to the music with tears in my eyes
Opening and closing, so close to losing every
Particle of my true self who hides behind the façade of
Real tough girl, but really I'm just a
Scared little girl, seeking approval
Through abusive relationships that get me nowhere
Underestimating my worth
Vicariously living through those I help
Wondering when I'll stop pretending and wanting
Xanax to ease my mind and cure the never
Yielding ball of AGGH in my stomach reaching the
Zenith called my mouth for awful bile filled days

This is the reality
That creates me

Altruistic soul filled to the
Brim with bravery and
Courage that never halts and a
Drive that never dies
Elaborate and elegant in everything I do
Feeling every emotion to its strongest
Grade of real
Healing my once misshapen soul
Into a whole, not needing to
Justify my ways, be they
Kind or crazy because I
Love, it's what I'm good at
Mirroring the footsteps of great writers and
Never following the path then
Owning my fate and my faith
Pleasing myself above others
Questioning when necessary
Remembering where I am from then
Stepping into new and different
Thresholds that are
Unable to faze me, especially as I
Violently throw out my vicious cycle
Without wavering back to my old ways, using some sort of
Xylene to immortalize my past as a
Yellow reminder and stain, pushing me in
Zigs zags to be who I aim to be

This is the dream
That creates me

Where is your heart,
It's a diversion
The glimmering, shimmering
Façade; the cloak
I like bright colors and shining ornaments
I thought I liked these things
Like your eyes and your voice
But it all disintergrates
Like the dust that was once mountains

My mind is the keeper of myriad memories captured by my five senses
I used to think it was all about me
And now I find myself dying to self
I can't make sense of it all
I've stopped imploring
Beating my fists to the floor, begging for more knowledge
I went out and sought the tree of knowledge
So I could take a bite of that poisonous fruit
I never found it.

Sometimes I find myself wrapped up in diversions,
Spellbound
Caught up in a web of hedonistic pursuits
Awaiting my death
I called "save me!"
Like the apostle Peter did when he was sinking
I called out in agony when all the pleasures became pain
An Angel appeared beside me
And guided me out of the dark night of my soul.

Sometimes,
On days as placid as this one
I completely forget what pain is and
How prevelant suffering is
It's too easy to just look out for myself and my own needs and wants
It's too easy to turn a blind eye to the starving child thousands of miles away from you or
The self destructive drug addict next door
It doesn't matter if the suffering is forced onto the person or if it's self inflicted
We need to love all,
Seek to bandage the wounded with unconditional love
And cast fear out of ourselves
The fear of what is foreign to us

Some days
When I'm happy and content
I ask myself,
Where is my heart?
I may never be recognized for the good deeds I've done in my life
But I rather live a life full of purpose
Even if that entails
Showering love onto the ones who are suffering
Putting myself among the lowest of the low
So that I can reach out my hand
And pull someone up to my level of joy in God.

And  when  his  usefulness  had  gone.
They  just  cast  him  aside.
And  on  the  final  downhill.
He  began  to  slide.

Rejected  after  all  his  work.
Visions  now  all  gone.
He  knew  full  well  his  time  was  near.
He  knew  he  had  not  long.

As  an  old  man  disillusioned.
And  weary  from  his  fight.
He  spent  in  sad  remembrance.
His  final  lonely  night.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.