I have scars, scars that I doubt anyone else will accept. For fear of reject, I hide behind them and l have become subject to my loneliness. They are emotional and physical. However, they are not whimsical.
I have turned into a bitter being, one who’s humanity is ripping at the seams. One who requires external validation, one who habours strain worth an entire nation.
I feel like a stranger amongst my own, like a light that was dimmed and never again shone.
I have changed and evolved, I continuously alter because I have not resolved. To live as deemed fit for me, I live as seems right to me.
I want to no longer feel bound, I want to be able to heed a sound. To follow it to my desired extremity, without being judged as a useless entity.
Indeed I am scarred, but believe me, I am not barred.