She knows
How it sounds,
Her defenses,
Her script.
She gets
Where to giggle,
Where to look away.
And some days,
She longs for freedom-
For mangled lines,
And empty faces,
And shredded costumes.
But today,
She greets
Her applause
And retreats
Into darkness.

I watch
The words
Dance
Full grown,
Well mannered
From your lips,
And the threads
They call
To existence
Weave
Perfectly
Together
A start,
An arc,
A seamless
Resolution
Where worlds
Spin
With sense.
And I am
Lonely
Shrouded
In your tapestry
Clinging to my ******
Beneath.

In order to expose my heart and truly write,
I must release my status or my pride,
this is not about me,
it was never meant to be a way to gain recognition,
another way for me to perform on a stage, some sort of exhibition.
Yet I find myself hesitating to write my thoughts,
trying to impress people I don't even know,
It was only meant to be an outlet a therapy for me, never some sort of show,
but like everything I have ever done somehow Id rather waste my time trying to impress. My guilty conscience driving me to be truly under duress. Forced to hold back the leanings of my heart I merely release a fluffy worthless shallow piece. I will not be stifled, held down by my need to please, my ribs will not rupture under this pressure as I try to breathe. I must write with heart and soul or not at all.
So this is my open message to you pride, no matter how many times I fool myself into putting on your mask, I promise, your control over me will not last.
I will take you off just as quickly as I put you on because I want someone who reads these to truly see me. To see me with all of my scars misfortunes and faith, I will put my heart out, I will never aspire to be fake.