I'm caressing my wounds,
Wondering if the pieces of flesh you have excised,
Were the best parts of me.
I fear I'm slowly losing my essence here.
I'm not a blank canvas,
To be painted with ghosts of your has not beens.
Not a mold of wax,
To be shaped into your illusion of who I should become.
The shell you want to break,
Is a part of me as much as it is to a turtle.
The silence you loath,
Is the clarity I crave in a noisy and restless world.
Before I drown in your ambitions,
I stretch my yet unspoiled wings,
You're pushing me to swim,
When all I've ever wanted...is to soar.Labels: Creative Works