I was born this monster. And yet I found peace. I didn’t run from who I am.
I didn’t live on lies. Conforming to any groups social decrees. Or choose fancy fucking labels.
To suit my needs. I face down the image in the mirror. Went to war with myself.
Lifting myself from bended knee. Nor did I get self righteous about the conflict. And hold myself to a higher degree.
Knowing there are more important fights. That I couldn’t foresee. Struggles more vital to the human condition.
Then not being the person you want to be. The only reason I’m speaking now is because I won’t bury the lede. It makes me sick when I hear people bitch and moan about their identities.
It only means their not facing down the world with clarity. Because if they were they’d see the strife that surrounds them. Like raising generation, after generation in systematic poverty.
Or the fact their just houses away from those who would see them bleed. All for being born the wrong race, or creed. These are the dilemmas that are more important.
Then you’re shallow fucking needs. And yet your primary concern is the ego you need to feed. Because there’s a voice echoing deep inside of you.
Screaming that somethings incomplete. Your inner child needs the comfort. To hell with the living breathing ones.
That you actually fucking hear weep.
IDENTITY CRISIS
