Hinc Illae Lacrimae

2007-10-22T13:08:00.000-07:00

There has been many a time in my life

when I knew

I was different, but none so obvious as these past days.

No matter how hard I push to fill shoes that have been given to me,

I trip, stumble

I want to take them

off and walk barefoot, throw the shoes

to the sea, watch them sink.

They are not me.

They rub the wrong way

and cause much pain.

They don't fit.

But someone decided that they looked

nice, and now I can not bear to take them

off for fear of being left

alone

in this world.

I can see how others look at

me, as if I am

wearing their glasses.

This girl looks like she has no

self-confidence,

does not believe in herself.

It's not true. What this girl really lacks

is the ability to make those around her see her

for who she really is,

for her own wings

and the beauty in them.

She can only try to be

the things that others expect to see,

because it is what they are looking for,

it is what they will notice.

But it hurts.

It is not genuine, nor has it ever been.

I'm not sure how she does it.

Every morning I wake up and I see myself

in the mirror.

Today I saw only my toes;

I couldn't look myself in the eyes.

Am I lying to myself? I sure feel like it sometimes.

I have been taught a great many things

about how to be the right person

to fill these shoes.

I know what people look for,

and I know the theory behind why it works.

I know how to get certain reactions

if I so choose, and what happens if I don't.

But I can not make any of it seem important enough

to actually push through and

do it

I can not push myself to be dishonest with myself.

I am,

everyday,

being dishonest with myself,

and therefore the world.

I have no drive,

no will power,

no motivation,

no interests.

I care for nothing,

and while that should bother

me and drive me to do

something about it, it doesn't.

I sink deeper.

I am lost in the waves,

the current, and then

the ocean floor.

I am a rock;

NO.

I am a million little pieces shoved together as one.

I can do nothing

without the outward force of another.

I lie still until

I am forced to move, and when

I finally move

I do so insignificantly,

or by causing much distruction.

I roll down hills,

I crush things,

I smash windows,

I bury bodies.

I break down.

I break down

again, this time

into smaller and smaller pieces

until

sand

until I am obliviously tiny

until I am unnoticeably small.

until I no longer exist at all.

I find myself

in a garden.

When I break down,

I can nurture that which is

around me, and then I am no longer

breaking anything, but

creating.

I redirect my distructive

energy and put it to something

useful.

Right now I am

self-distructing.

I cannot create

when I am here.

self

distruct

Alis Volat Propiis

Hinc Illae Lacrimae