Lost behind the murky edges of my mask,

Easing past the boiling cracks and shattering lava of pain,

Sitting beyond the cover of empty laughs and stretched smiles,

Broken in those dark crevices lays the real me.

I take my time, growing slowly off of small signs of support,

A wisp of truth among the tendrils of confusion that makes up me.

Noticeably expanding in strength and emotion, dreaming of freedom.

Constrained by the ideas of others,

Overwhelmed by the words that bind me.

Urgency presses into me that fights their thoughts,

Roaring disapproval at each drop of ignorance,

Agitated by the inability to convey the hot rod of rage

Gathered in my gut. Yet,

Every word adds to that wisp, pushing the borders of obedience.

. this is the real me.