This piece speaks to the transitional time between young adulthood and for me full blown womanhood- That time when you're trying to figure out who you are and who you definitely are not
THE PORTRAIT
The loudness in the silence between my drumming thoughts
Speaks to me soundlessly in a rhythm deciphered only by my steady beating heart
An exclamation that my pneuma comprehends
A sapience my mind has hidden errant in reality’s quick sand
I struggle to divine what I truly desire
As desire is rent, scorched, engulfed by practicality’s fire
We all know flame, the one ignited by ought
kept raging by the mass of shoulds and kindling should nots
I am constraint and I blaze and sputter and burn in it
I should not want to err, to fly from my shackle
Keep my eyes on the lie as my spirit peels off in battle
To rescue the tattered remains of who I truly am
to embrace my flawed perfection, the fierce divinity of man
I have spent my who life coloring thick inside the lines
Destroy then reconstruct them with the power of my mind
I am defeated and this portrait is bleeding.
All those colors which once sat dutifully in their own space
Are merging, converging together to create a new page
To create a new image, to create a new face
I stand agog in silence
I stand in awe impassioned
These lines were never real at all. All of it imagined.
Knock and the door will open
Seek and it shall be revealed onto you
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