Friday, February 6, 2015

identity crisis

earth-shaking fears and the feeling of strangulation
by such recalcitrant tears that i hid like a child
and i didn't just hide but hid what i found sacred
in a thousand curses and blasphemies of pride

pride that grew from the rejection of my place
well, you can reject it, but it never goes away
it gnaws on your bones like a feral child inside
it fights for life in the space between my compromises

and it is with great pain very often sublimated
with great shame that i know who i am
that my name stands proud on the tip of my tongue
quickly bitten back into bitter subjection

and i taste the bitter blood in my mouth
listening quietly to my heartbeat slow, soften
i know that this moment is a respite
the child never goes, just fights to let me know

i'm not me at all, but the one i fear to show--with affectation
pitiful, vulgar affectation

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