You find yourself from discovering the things you are not.

you are not what they call you.
you are what you call yourself.
you are not the things you failed at.
you are the lessons you learn from your experiences.
you are not the brands you wear.
you are the things you read to inform yourself.
you are not the circumstances you were born into.
you are what you make of your circumstances.
you are not depression, anxiety or eating disorder.
you are the every inch of the smile you wear despite that struggle.
you are not the people who left you behind.
you are the person you choose to become when they are gone.
you are not the ideals society imposes upon you.
you are the truth you honor despite what they tell you.
you are not the rubble they discarded.
you are the empire you built from the ruins they left behind.

Arms to hold us up
when our legs buckle
from under us
and lips to kiss us
good morning.

As a writer, I learned to dance with
my demons at the typewriter,
and poetry is the song
of the struggle that ended
in an entwined embrace.

To understand,
the different dimensions
that tortures one's soul;
is the reason why I write.
That is the reason for my existence.
That is what freedom means to me.