I shall wait with bated breath, because
These lacerations are tattooed on my back
Initiating the tears falling down my cheek while the scars
Spell out the hurt I’ve endured,
Spill out my pain through the wounds and
Supply the anger that’s bubbling in my veins.
Installing the brick wall I put up between myself and the world before and behind me.
The locks are padded on my walls.

While the incisions in my hearts cut deep
While the nicks in my brain scramble
I shall wait with bated breath
for the moment my life becomes my own
For the moment my life will not be lived in fear of others opinions of me
For the moment my life becomes truly my own.

When can I live my own life?

Poetry Slam: 


Monet Thibou

I wrote this initially as a rant to expound on my sadness with trying to become someone else.

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