The Labyrinth

Without a filter?

Walking outside without choosing who I will be,

that is a task I have not undertaken since...

well, maybe since my best friend abandoned me,

since I was pushed and pinched to become someone else,

since the world changed from being a wonder

to being a place I needed to survive.

 

Without a filter, I would be significantly less profane. 

Begging God to send me away, 

asking what I need to atone my sins and slights,

serving people because I feel unworthy to live.

 

My filters protect me more than anyone else.

I need to feel like there's something to hold on to,

even something fluid like my gender expression,

solid as my standing friendships,

or soft as the blanket that comforts my occasional

night terror of abandonment or self-destruction.

 

I can be unfiltered, but it is dangerous,

My edges sharpen, my wit draws blood,

and my slow stutters can shake foundations

worse than any earthquake.

 

I drew up a labyrinthine mind more to see myself succeed

where I had before failed to make anything worthwhile.

To find myself a place in my abandonment.

To sleep soundly after my nightmares.

 

Honestly, there may still be a me under the filters,

but they have also begun to absorb these tics.

I am what I do, and I did make these and hold on to them,

much like children with their handmade toys.

 

And that is who I am.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741