I’m in disguise
as a normal person.
Not a convincing ruse,
I’m too much me,
it’s true.
Dignified,
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
growing,
evolving,
becoming
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
skyrocket
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.
So,
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
