Reap
A poem
I have been returned
to all those things I left hidden
As I was made to believe that I was strange as a child,
told these things I speak of should never be spoken
So I kept it to myself
I bought into their belief
So much so it became mine too
A desired result of what others wanted
as a perceived acceptable reflection of themselves
Well behaved,
peg in hole
and block in square
All that was magical in me was a mystery,
even to me
My struggle with self became too much
I could no longer deny
that I did not align with this assigned facade
So I had to dig in the dirt
to find what was buried alive
and so near death,
gasping for a breath
What was wild
Untainted
Unbridled
Even angry
The essence of me
Dormant creativity
dying
to be expressed and set free
Somewhere in there
was the forgotten person
I was meant to be
The Why
for my very existence
So I kept digging through the mire and muck
Trying to discern what was mine,
polishing it off to admire it
with teary eyes
and returning what was theirs
to the afterlife
with ceremonial love
Now that I'm firmly planted
I'm ready for my blessed harvest
Purposely as me
