When You hear the name Blake
I bet you think of someone

They could be a person who is full of love
Who is always smiling and just a ball of sunshine
Or
Someone who crushed you
who left you in the rain, eyes on fire
Charred a soul-rending black from the pain
The 3 A.M. Acid of a conversation splashed in your eyes
Or maybe you don't think of anyone when you hear that name.
Maybe just a shillouette

But when I hear the name Blake
I see a seventeen year old boy
With short light brown hair
And deep, brown eyes

I see him every day,
for all of my days
On most he adorns a smile
A genuine curve on his face

But There are days
Where he's become hollow
Only a Shadow, frozen
in his black drift of a nightmare he's caught in
But I will always see him

I see him angrily try to style his hair in the morning
I see him in the dead of night
Feels like everything falls apart, and slips through his fingers
But still I persist, to be so distantly close to him

We are one and the same, black as to white
But if this is true
Then the black can be gray
And so can the white
This is the that confusion that dwells in their subconscious
This is the infinite limbo in which they both reside

He is a bundle of joy stuck between happiness and sadness
And me...I'm broken

I'm Confused
on why I hide him from others
When he is me and I am him.

Maybe I fear what they'll say
When he comes out hoping for open arms
But receives the pain he expects too well
Be it judgement Or hate.

So I hide him
But I want him to know
I'm not ashamed of him
That I love him because he's who I really am
And that one day
Which I hope is soon

I'll no longer introduce myself as Mercedes
The person who feels out of place in their body
But As Blake
The person who is happy and feels like they are finally who there suppose to be.