Breathe In

As the air fills my lungs I taste a new day

A new allotted amount of time to craft myself.

But as I sculpt others are using much more foreign tools,

Tools that allow them to edit who they appear to be.

Instead of filling their lungs they are filling the feeds.

But if I were to capture a moment

I would treat it like a delicate butterfly.

Instead of pinning down its wings with filters

I would embrace its beauty and allow it to soar.

Each ounce of human emotion cannot be confined

To the gated walls of technology that fence out originality.

Apply enough filters and you’ll look like the rest.

But I, I want to look like me.

My height makes me a skyscraper,

My heart makes me electric,

And my fears, they make me human.

Put my pieces together and I encompass a quaint town

Filled with a quirky hustle and bustle.

My words come out jumbled

As they trip over each other on the race off my tongue.

But my message is clear,

And my identity is not.