in me. I just need a good
clean-up job. I’ve been dragged through
the mud. Scuffed up a bit. But there’s
plenty of me left to polish. When I compare

myself to others I look dull. I fade in the
comparison. It makes me want to quit. But then
I say to myself this is my true destiny. And I’ll
never know how far I could go if I stop here. I’ll

never know my worth if I don’t take off all
the layers of dirt that are sticking to me,
in some seedy way have been protecting
me. But aren’t who I am. I’ve worn them so long

they’ve become my limbs, my second skin. Grotesque
as it is, I was content being muted. I wouldn’t
refute it, when people pigeonholed me. Fit me in this
or that category. I’m starting to chip off pieces

as a chick does its shell to break into this world. I
still have a long way to go to find the light. I know
it’s out there; it’s just not in my sight. But I feel
the warmth in the air over all my layers.