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."

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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