I walk with a head full of clouds, a mouth full of wisdom
Trudging in a sea of doubt flippantly filling in the void with words unspoken
Teetering on the edge of what is "right" what is "wrong"
Floating on the tempting water between what I am and what I "should be"
What the letters upon the box should say, were they stuff me to forget me
Their labels still sting the inside of my nose, the latex embedded in the skin from each ripping and re-sticking.
I wear a face upon my skin her butterfly headdress bleeds the color of their contempt, the slick lines of abstract freedoms morph to become the fluttering of a thousand wings
What I want most I have bled to show, how my mind works and sees has printed on the skin
Put there to remind all I am more within.