Pictures in my head

suspect,

Pain, it’s painted on my shoulder

there’s a chip on your shoulder, mate

Isn’t there?

Yes, I can’t see it, but it’s there,

I can’t tell you how it feels but I feel it

I want you to know me, too,

But I think now more than ever,

I don’t know myself.

I am not feeling like there is a good picture in my mind

Anymore, I have been trying so hard to see it.

I am putting it back on the shelf

The moon-case of your heart

I swear it was something I cherished,

I still do.

Am I supposed to be made this way

When I feel like I’ve always been another?

I am proud of God’s creation,

I am picturing myself proud

Of my reiterate reflection,

There’s my wings,

Dusky, male

Dripping with you.