I know this self(i.e me)
And it does not know
What it means to understand the difference between
Honesty and dishonesty
Since it never needed to know in the first place.
And this self(i.e me)
Has never covered its mouth with the trembling hand
With which I create my world.
Incredibly, I’m still intact and my words still fire
Out of my mouth, truthful and blunt,
Because this self(i.e me) doesn’t know the difference between
Modesty and boastfulness,
Since it’s all the same in the end.
They act as if there is a way to starve these words
That I scream my throat raw to get into their skulls
Because there is no other exit.
But this self(i.e me) is tired of being looked at
With wide eyes and open mouths and closed ears.
This self(i.e me) is blunt and loud because it wants,
No, demands that it be felt deep within
These prison cells that broken phrases can’t break free from
Because my honesty has been silenced;
A filter has been applied to these lips.
And I hate the way it’s made me bitter.
And I hate the way I’m not considered.
Maybe it’s my figure.
Maybe it’s my trigger-happy tongue.
Or maybe I’m not the one
Who’s lack of filter is not triumphant.
And I, with these bloodshot tears,
Am the filter-less self(i.e) they think is unclear.