I have so much inside me
that is trying to paralyze me
when all I am trying to do
is define me.
All I ever feel is pressure.
Pressure to be good
Pressure to be bad
Pressure to be straight
Pressure to be had.
Pressure.
Its rattling my brain
like these hurricanes we see.
I…
Just…
Want…
To…
Be...
Loved!
For whom I am.
Not who I have to be.
For what I am.
Not what I am forced to be.
For me.
Why is that so hard?
About the Creator
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The rays of a dying red sun flashed against the onrushing blade. The grey beards say the key to dueling lies in size, speed, reach, righteous fury, whatever the person in front of them pays them to say. Matteo knew better than any it was none of these and had an undefeated record on these sands to prove it.
By Matthew J. Fromm5 days ago in Fiction
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