There used to be a time
When certain people didn’t like
How I spoke
How I shared the room
Showed my authenticity
The ways I engaged
In conversation
Maybe I spoke too much
Maybe I asked too many questions
Didn’t know how to be brief
Or incurious
I don’t know
But I like the way I speak
And I guess you can say I don’t
Care anymore about what I say
Or who hears it
Honestly, I couldn’t give a good goddamn
Because my words are my own
The way I interact with others is me
And if you don’t like it
Well…I guess you aren’t my people
Love, the awkward, rambling (w)itch ❤️
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The Piggy Project
I’ve had so many names in this life I lose track of which ones were ever really mine and which ones I wore because someone needed me to. Some were handed to me before I had words to refuse them, before I knew what they meant, before I knew I could say no. Most weren’t meant to hurt. That doesn’t mean they didn’t leave marks. Marks that told me who I belong to, who I am by way of who claims me, recognizes me in the good and bad, who walks beside me.
By Fatal Serendipity3 days ago in Confessions
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