The quiet that is I,

yet, unseen by others,

this true self.

Afraid of being found out,

afraid of being misunderstood,

afraid of trying hard to connect,

only to be dismissed as “less-than”.

Uninterested glances,

belittled by words weaved ever so intricately,

as if to disguise rotten carcasses within a strawberry shortcake.

Sweet smiles, embraces for greetings,

yet nothing feels right,

all a fraud, a charade.

Feeling real, what does this look like?

To unleash the self,

allowing the self to soar freely,

through colors and words I speak,

my heart bleeding, swimming in love,

yet difficult to express when face-to-face,

flying while immersed in the colors of the soul.

There is always a way to express ourselves,

to connect with those we may or be able to do so in the everyday,

and it can be through these other means,

which help us discover what it means to —