Friday, February 5, 2010

The Dream.

I was laying in a hospital bed.
I needed a new heart.
Everywhere I looked, doctors were reaching for me.
Wanting to look. Wanting to help.
I fought them with everything I had.
"They don't know how damaged my heart really is."
It's better to have them here, now, trying to see, but finding nothing,
(At least I know they're trying)
than to let them in and see all they have to fix.
Then to have them leave me;
decide I'm not worth it.



I can't exactly put my finger down on the moment
I starting becoming
who I see when I look in the mirror now,
but I know I regret that moment with all of my heart.

To quote the wise Marie Digby:
"My soul, it's dying to be freed,
you see... I can't live the rest of my life so guarded.
It's dying to be free; it's up to me to choose..."

I choose to break down these walls.
I'll let someone see the real me.
No more masks.
No more hiding.
No more lying.

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