Painted Eggs

I’m in disguise

as a normal person.

Not a convincing ruse,

I’m too much me,

it’s true.


until I feel emotions,

then my mask slips,

just a little bit.


Never wanted to ever be

one of you.

Falsify the efforts,

soft on the inside

and hard on the outside.

I don’t think you’re finished




whatever it is.

You don’t suddenly quit the journey

when you’re 30 years old

and suddenly,

the fear,

it grips you.


Maybe you’ve got something

to lose.

Maybe now you can finally admit

the truth.

The gain is hollow

and the trials you faced

were just abuse.

You followed all the rules,

maybe even broke a few

and where did that get you?


Hopelessly in debt

to a world

that has no remorse

when it takes you

and knocks you down

and fucks you

without a kiss,

or whispering

“I love you”.

Not even that small lie,

but you still suit up

for one more 9 to 5

and all this time,

it’s killing you inside.


They don’t tell you

that the rates of suicide


after 40.


I never understood the draw

of a domestic mindset,

so kind, yet,

so irrelevant.

Free your mind

and your ass will follow,

fill the hollow, you

might do well

to remember,

normal isn’t quantifiable.

It’s an average,

based on expectations.



are you an embryo,

or are you human?

There’s no prize

for being

the most boring person in existence.

Hard on the outside,

soft in the middle,

cracks in your shell,

I can see what’s in you.

Let my mask fall,

maybe I’ll show you

what it’s like to be

free of these

bullshit expectations.


HG – 2017

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