Unclipped Wings

Unclipped Wings

Let me be.
Don't shape me with your hands.
Let me grow the way I want.
Don't tell me that I'm different
Tell me, instead, that I am myself.
Let me be my own person.
Don't show me pictures
of beautiful, staring, stick figures
that I must worship with all my heart,
and sacrifice my body and my health
as tribute to them.
To me, they are empty;
nothing but an image.
But I guess image is everything these days.
Or so you say.
Don't try to trap me in unhappiness
With your iron words of criticism.
Because I can't hear you,
I won't listen.
I'm flying already, far into my own happiness.
Amidst the clouds, where any shape is accepted.
Don't try to tell me where to go
Because I'm already gone,
And you can't hurt me here.