If I Were Honest

I am something smaller than I seem to be

Revealing the wizard behind the curtain

I am engulfed with uncomfortable insecurity

Stretched and shrunk

Shapes become lines, undefined

No longer the nonchalant dares and the outlandish fashion

I am a girl in jeans and a t-shirt

Who doesn’t do much

Lounging in familiar places, content with familiar faces

Who runs out of the things to say

Choked words and worn out roads

 I want the road to be mine

Fantasized and untouched

With scarlet skies and outlining trees that grow upside down

Where the wrong way up is the right way down

The road that makes a person

Taking away the lens and the puffed-up chest

I let the world see the rest of me

The shut away and hushed need for comfort

I am dependent

The balled up emotional stuff

The sloping reds and the wavy blues

The childish and wide eyes that reflect the bright light of the world 

The neon lights that I so often convince myself are mine

I want the hot pink but I’m only the surface rose

I want the lime green but I’m only the grass green

I’m the black and white surface but I want everything in between

I am no longer the lasting smile

I am strained muscles  

I am the high and low feeling of a rainy day

Excitement and introversion

 So deep within myself that myself is something blurred

All roads worn, all colors faint

I am only my eyes pointed to the sky  

Scared to admit that I’m not so sure there is a wizard behind the neon curtain