I am not trying to be anything


a shedding

shed robes of fear,self-pity,self doubt

This thing I know I could be

and how I am caught in this trap that fangs and claws have grasped and mangled




Life is short

pain is inevitable

death is certain

But the journey is mine

and if I don’t find this freedom,

I’ll be a walking corpse

“making an impact” “being a changemaker”

and my fingers would wither and my heart would turn cold stone cold

and all that tangerine and marigold passion would be mere ash

and my face would be a petrifying mask of fibreglass cast of other people’s expectations,and whenever I catch myself in a reflection I would avert my eyes from shame…




Breaking free is no longer an option.

If I have to live, I must learn how to breathe

On my own




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s