So much of my true spirit is twisted and blamed on natural forces. Shamed into pulling back those words that count. Driving down my anger and need to shout.
Fear that you may not like what I have to say and leave. Terror that I will show you the passion of my conviction and scare you away completely.
I began loathing my emotions long before you came, it’s not your fault. I’m just carrying on as I’ve been taught.
Forgive my leaking soul. Ignore the distorted face you caught peeking through. That isn’t me. Nothing I’d willingly let others see.
Except in those rare moments…
…when it’s all I ever wished to be.
Art is by Saerah Haytch at Deviant Art