Authenticity

Authenticity

My eyelids are weak,
my back is soar,
and the early morning,
forces me to scream.
I want to see the dawn,
with a colorful sunrise,
and tea to start my day.
Instead the day calls me,
with heavy stones,
and whiplashes breaking,
the fragile skin of my body.
My mind has become numb –
I stop the thinking,
as soon as I wake up,
in order to prevent,
the evil thoughts,
from crashing in on me,
leaving scars on a heart,
that is already broken.
I protect myself from a world,
who has abandoned me,
at the first breath of my youth,
for reasons I cannot comprehend.
Even the Heavens have gone silent,
unable to utter another word,
that could possibly encourage me.
The streets and bridges are empty.
Only a handful of birds,
dare to cross the sky,
unbothered by the disarray,
taking place beneath them.
My first breath in the morning,
which feels like the first breath,
of a terrified newborn child,
should be the one of a happy,
innocent child filled with wonder,
and glee of the future,
but cheerfully present in the day.
Instead I wonder about the changes,
and improvisations I could make,
to enhance my chances on a market,
that has put me in the box,
of misfits not pretty enough to sell.
Like the crooked cucumber,
that did not make the final cut,
to the runway of the supermarket.
But no matter how I put it down,
in beautifully crafted words,
to explain my small mistakes,
not one is good enough,
to force me to hide away.
I want to be my authentic self,
in a world of so many that look,
and behave exactly the same,
in a society that does not expect,
anything less than that.
I want to rise above the crowd,
of people so alike,
to show this world the beauty,
of standing out.
The worth in my soul,
wins it every single time,
of the desire to fit in.
So even if I have to live,
this one life I have been given,
in the company of myself,
I shall be happy,
for the only thing worse,
than complete loneliness,
is to be forced to kill,
my beautiful self.

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