If I died tomorrow, I
don't know if I would be proud of who
I am today.
[pause] Allow me, to explain,
we have been told over and over again,
that we should live freely within our constraints-
be who you are but do not wander to far.
I cannot be proud of the person I see, if I am not wholly
sure that she is me. [breathe]
She waits at the corner mart- again- in the pouring
rain, it is time to go home,
no bother waiting for a message that will never come through.
She is alone and not for the first time because she simply wasn't
But is she loud enough enough when she screams in her room,
the privacy she been grants from the world, where she curls upon herself and
swears everything will be okay. Is she still too
I try not to see that girl to often, but
she's everywhere I go- not just in the windows of
cars or bathroom mirrors- She sometimes passes me in
halls at school. [pause]
If I died tomorrow, I have to tell you
on last thing, I'm shedding that skin tonight,
because I died, I want to anew. So I might become
the person I suppose to be all along.
That girl at the corner mart- she still waiting
on a message that is floating a sea. And she will go
home sobbing, but no one can hear it seems.
But I do. She is screaming loud enough for me.
All she needs to do is break free.