I Am Who I Am
When that one person tells me
I can never be who I want to be,
it's just like
liquid metal
through my veins.
A fire
lighting behind my eyes.
And not to mention this
deep burning sensation
within the pit of my stomach,
because that
one person
had to bring me down.
Yest as that person lists ever reason
why not,
I SHOULD be thinking about every reason
I can.
Emphasis on should.
Every other person would have said,
"and I did"
but this isn't a fairy tail,
and I'm not a princess.
Yet, as I stand here,
petrified like a flower,
caged within a page of a heavy book.
Gasping for breath but only receiving
stale papyrus and black words,
I can't help but feel
this tinge of sadness,
this longing to
fulfill
that one persons
pride
in
me.
As that persons tells me every reason
why not,
I have to stand there
and take it.
Each word a venomous bite
into my arms and legs,
face
and neck,
until I am nothing
but the hollow shell I was made to be.
When that one person is finally finisted,
I am left there in nothing
but a grave of misery
in what I once was.
Somewhere in the graveyard of defferede dreams
and lives lost to the endless pit
of negativity and jealousy.
I am just a ghost,
holding onto strands of hair
connected to a corpse of dead rights.
Trying to find a murderer
who was none one but someone.
Me.
But then,
when I am holding onto the last strands of hair,
the last shred of hope,
that strand turns into locks.
I finally feel breath within my lungs
as I have been submerged
beneath the surface of an iced over ocean
of hope.
Finally, the sun has come out and melted the ice away.
I have been freed from a long dead winter,
my soul everlastingly filled with warmth.
I finally feel the grace of God,
blessing me.
I feel as if I have grown wings,
feeling the warmth of hope lift me up,
away from the chains that bound me.
When that one person tells me
I can never be who I want to be.
I merely utter the words,
"Caesar said Jesus could never be the Son of God."