Of all the days I’ve walked the Earth

I’d like to believe

I do not hide myself

behind an unforeseen curtain

fore I always try to be

me,

but on days when pressures on  me

the real me becomes unleashed.

The toddler of terrible

tantrums

finally runs

free.

She screams and yells,

kicks and bites,

fights every second

for a chance to

stay alive.

So yes,

I am like

The Great and Powerful

Wizard of Oz.

I hide behind the curtain

because I hate the

real me.

She’s nothing but

an imperfection

who threatens

to strangle me.

She makes me

so emotional

I can’t even see me.

So in a world of

perfection

I hide all my

Impurities