Fear To Spread My Wings

A poem

Teisha LeShea
Know Thyself, Heal Thyself

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Image created using Copilot

A part of me still cares about what you think of me.
From the way I look and act to how goofy I can be.
Sometimes, I feel uncomfortable being entirely me.

Masking who I am is my comfort place.
I feel content with being the last turtle in the race.
To not be the center of attention.
To worry about how my image forms others’ perceptions.

I’m close to stepping out and saying, “Come stop and stare.”
Bottling up who I am doesn’t get me anywhere.
To laugh and not cover up my smile.
To wear what I want confidently and with pride.

My wings paralyzed.
My wings are stiff.
The use-it-or-lose-it mentality hovers over my head thick and robust.
If I don’t fly, my wings will become weak, and I lack the muscle memory to spread them freely.

I take a stand.
I embrace my truth.

I spread my wings.
Now I can fly.
The world is my oyster with my Eagle eye.

Originally published at https://vocal.media.

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