The Story of Who I Am

Where is the black place I was frightened by?

Where is the lack of space I couldn't pass by?

Once, I feared the loss of a choice

And hid my fear in a loss of voice.

Well, then, I would see that finally

It would all come back to me.

That I would speak out and let them show

The words I before did not know

Could exist in my mind,

But then, what am I?

A cute liar that is better than some

And worse than few others

But then, where have I come?

In the perfect state of pride.

I can't deny I lied

To those who weren't prepared

For my words of who I am

And still they seem surprised

That I so easily could lie.

Who are you? they cry out

And what have you done to her?

Please, that's just what doesn't matter

Because that's not what I'm about.

I shouldn't be concerned of the presence

I desperately avoided

Because it is them that should be confronted

With those fears of commonsense.

But then, there's none left

And they shout aloud

That not I, nor anyone else

Knows how hard it is.

And so I turn around

And keep turning my head to see what my own actions could do

And my own hands could hurt

And my own eyes could poison

With the pain of truth.