Eccentricity and Resonance

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How do I sound?

Through the smile I place on my face

Sometimes I sound like tears (I’m choking back)

From the strain of all of this weight on my shoulders

From simply living the life I need, to be the person I know I am

To get through to the person I know I’ll be.

I know I’ll get through if only I push.

It’s hard some days, but still I persist.

I fight through the muck of mental illness and scorn

But I don’t sound like the limits unto which I was born

So how do I sound without trying to please?

I sound like my (eccentric) personality

Not the taboo subject of my (ab)normal sexuality.

I don’t sound like the name my (dead) mother gave to me

Through the lips I got from my (estranged) father’s family.

I sound like a struggle and a crushing sense of hopelessness

But I more often sound like the music I sing

And the determination I hang onto (by the skin of my teeth)

But in spite of living on the brink of homelessness,

I know I’m not completely alone.

I may feel lonely, but I know there is someone on my side.

There is always someone there to help me

Even when they are not there to touch, to hold me.

I sound like the courage these people give me,

And the support I (sometimes can’t) feel from them around me.

I may be a small piece of this (in)finite world,

But I am mighty in my own fleeting life.

For me, life isn’t short.

Life is the longest thing I (any of us) will ever experience,

But that is what makes living it that much more precious.

So I will dance to children’s songs,

I will sing at the top of my lungs,

I will love in spite of the walls I put up,

And I will succeed in spite of the objects in my way.

I will push until my limbs give out

And I will not let anything tell me not to dream

For I sound like hope (when I thought it was gone)

And I sound like bravery (when I thought I’d run dry)

And those objects are merely obstacles that only I can navigate

They are not boundaries unless I allow them to be.

I'm healing, I'm growing, I'm learning

I'm making my way through the journey

So I suppose, most often I sound like me.

This poem is about: 
Me

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