"Caught in a whirlwind…of expectations,
All kinds, on all planes, all around
my rejected husk cracking, peeling flying afar,
pink, delicate ‘me’ emerging, not without scar.
new complaints, new expectations, churning continues…
swinging like a pendulum between don’ts,… dos...
acquiring traits that do not belong to me,
soon, whatever I am, will cease to be,
choked, locked in deep recess,
abondoned lays a spirit, for it was less,
less than a perfect being, but perfect case for comparison,
tired of pretending, afraid of conclusion..
not this, not that, don’t want to be whole…
Please… let me die…
an incomplete woman, an unfinished soul…"
Picture Taken from: mikeduran.com
