I do not feel you can fathom the depth of my soul.
In a world so visually judgemental and quick to categorize based on surface appearance, I covered all my skin and all my features in order to leave my one true heart at the door of those I made visits to. Some still call me selfish.
I can recall the days where the fire and drive burned outrageously out of control within the center of who I was so effortlessly and I can also recall the day it all changed and it became work to feel the sun or see the bluish hue of the sky. All while staring at it from behind blue eyes. Imagine that.
I’ve given love in exchange for pain to simply comfort those I’ve held. Thousands of times over, a piece of myself passing away like the very children in my arms but, this world shouts in the most profound ways, “that’s not enough”.
Go get a real job if you want a home to call your own.
I guess as long as I work for God, I’m supposed to suffer in the eyes of onlookers and ill only be rewarded by this world when I take up some mundane job and walk away from my purpose to collect a check every two weeks. Only then will you be proud enough of me to be ok with me being ok.
I suppose I’m just a slave to my own heart and the world’s expectations to keep seeing it displayed like artwork for the masses to judge. All at the costly price of my sanity to inspire you all but, this was never really meant for you. It was always at the expense of myself, yes but, it was always for them. The little ones in the midst of a ginormous fight and one hell of a story with no voice to tell it. The children.
We can only ever amount to whomever we push ourselves to be and it is an act of rebellion to pursue that unapologetically in this prison like realm of an existence where for most, true freedom is merely an illusion keeping those who think they have it, within that imaginary state long enough to keep them occupied and diverted from their actual purpose.