"Be All You Can Be," says the television.
I almost chose it, the life the TV tells me.
I almost went away,
To be a brother-in-arms.
Now, I'm thinking about being a brother-in-a-frat-house,
it hardly compares, but here I am searching
So I can be happy.
An 8 year plan for self-actualization.
Maslow would laugh; at the Army ad, at me, and at everyone who follows a path they didn't carve into rock with a spoon.
all i want in life
is to become everything
i am capable of becoming
I am becoming
Not what others want me to be
Not what the professionals say I should be
Someone I want to be
I am becoming
Through the turmoil and tears
Through the anguish of my years
Someone unafraid of life
I am becoming
A force to be reckoned with
A powerful witness to power
Someone who enjoys life
Yes, I am becoming
False leaders only want to control us
They create lies and tell us we are born impure and imperfect
never realizing we were created to be perfect
with a mind so susceptible to manipulation
we believe and believe, but all paths lead to the same door
I've opened it, we all hold the key to end this war
Do not allow your voice
to be heard only in
the lullabies of sad songs.
You create the world you see.
Take it in your hands
It's the first time I feel my heart is whole, unbroken and full
I am proud that I pushed myself for so long, and finally exceeded this glass ceiling that I unconsciously created.
I reached a place of self actualization
A place I thought was made up for traumatized people to aspire to.
I feel that for once my heart is actually mine.
That my heart is home
Home for me not the people that abandoned me.
What a feeling.
I learned my worth
And I feel free
Perhaps one day, when I am older,
I will look at who I am today-
A scrawny girl
with her hands balled up so tight
That there are crescent-shaped depressions
in the palms of her hands
(She will be standing leagues behind me)
And I will run, run to her
with my dying strength
I'll offer my condolences,
And give withering flowers to my own ghost.
Things won't be quite as terrible anymore
Still in motion, I struggle with shrinking sounds
of my shadow resisting the ballooning into life I find articulating so often.
What is the self?
I have been skinny dipping with this question
because I can not forget what it is to be an object,
a sense of the ever present weight of a secret word
we’ve been struggling to define.
Do I even need a diction for direction?
Could we not let our selves wash
over us like we could not falter
and if not then aren’t we already dead?
A horseshoe on fire with all the weight of emotion.
A far more intoxicating psychosis,
than being a program.
I dare the children;
there is a reason he’s known to be jealous and a man.
I will play but I’m going to bend the rules as it suits this shade at my heels
driving me further into my own lightness so that it may grow taller.
The ant and the sapling.
A sensation of of being… SNAP OUT OF IT.
Too close. You don’t want to feel this love.
You’ll become contrary to your cage
and It is that very tension that will vault me
into the sun where again I will melt back down into a wash basin
of soapy science trying to scrub reality clean.
When everything is spotless,
what will the dirt mean when there is nothing left to refer as an opposite?
The earth will become the numb halls of sadist’s with not much left of
home to live in unless we learn to fly by our own direction.
— The End —