An odd and irreverent look at finally opening yourself up and being true |
I like that word. Distorted images in a child's mirror, Trying to see myself for who I am. What does the distortion tell you? Who makes the specifications, Who defines? I've been so many people Virtual realities colliding, Discovering the truths Hidden beneath the mask, Looking for several sides To every story-- Digging deeper within myself Trying to see what it's all about... Laughing outloud To myself so no one else Can hear again For the first time The last time This time Every time? Question me with answers, I'll answer you with questions And we'll both be right. Releasing the ranting, raving Lunatic inside, Letting the ugliness show; Displaying with childlike pride The dark, sticky things I picked From the nasal passages of my Soul. Finally becoming free In my own mind/ of my own mind/ with my own mind. Listening to the sounds made When the mighty hand of thought Smacks the forehead Of my sub-conscious-- Reaping the Fertile Fields Of Mind and Soul, Renovating the temple, Gathering up the thoughts Pried from my brain By my big mental crowbar-- Finally feasting upon These gourmet fruits of labor, Feeding the sick Soul Of reality's Dark Love Child. Begging the tightly wound ball of insecurities To open up, breath easy, fear nothing, love all, And live freely. Giving final permission To come out and play again and again and again And knowing that, Finally, Life will never be the same Again. |