Snippet Of A Conversation

“Confront the facts!

You’ve hated yourself,

You’ve lived a lie!

You’re not what you present!”

 

“Shut up.

All persona is presentation,

It’s all a lie anyway

So what does it matter?”

 

“Represent someone else

And hide from what you really feel.

Is this what you really want,

Miss Freedom of Expression?”

 

“I’ll express what I choose.

My secrets are my own,

And does anyone really care

What I feel inside?”

 

“What does it matter

If anyone gives a damn?

What satisfactions comes

From dishonest expression?”

 

Aspirations, Confessions, Anxieties

Quietly, I can express my needs and wants.

A laugh, a good thought, and a gentle fuck.

Judge honestly, but don’t hate me.

I never meant to be so much a pity.

Far enough forward triggers regress.

Love is the idiotic fantasy I’ve missed.

Guilt disturbs not my persona’s visage,

Knowing vanity is only shameful without substance.

Every day is a tedious dream to live unrestrained,

In constant delay and imposed constraints.

Reaching out becomes languidly cheap.

Everyone seems shallow when you’ve hidden yourself deep.

Lived too long and not enough,

Though experienced more than the time was worth.

Years pass and thoughts persist unfazed,

But I’m old enough to be tired of my own malaise.

I would tear my heart open in a second,

Were it not for fear of punishment.

Insults are nothing, but criticism still hurts.

It’s horrific guessing what your identity is worth.

Should I redress my name?

Should I assess my every action?

Would you think I was stealing

If I seemed more like you?

Can angry boys grow up to be women,

And would it make her less man?

 

Enough, enough.

Speak in slow, delicate tones.

Gardens, streams,

Mountains, flowers,

Poetry, books, and music,

Love, sex, and fragrance,

A dream away,

A lifetime.