Vulnerable me.

Vulnerable as I am,

I thought I could hide behind the palm of my hand.

I was sold on the lie of a self—

Of a self made up, falsified, raised high,

Lifted up by the array of following.

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Vulnerable as I am

I came wrapped in layers of feeling,

Dreams and goals stretched tight,

unraveling too fast, too differently.

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A pacifier placed in my mouth to silence my voice,

to keep it in—

And I kept it in,

Long after my mates had long outgrown it.

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Because if I let it out,

If I opened, shriveled, exposed who I am,

It would distort a world

That never valued vulnerability.

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I could never shine being vulnerable me…

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So I put on the mask—

Do not feel, do not daydream.

Life is for living sober, they say.

Drunkenness, euphoria—they’re found in drinks,

In drugs, in screens.

This is what we’ve adapted to,

The only reason to let it out,

To feel intensely.

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If only you knew vulnerable me…

How I could dance to no music,

And no, without alcohol.

How my heart spirals,

My smile widens,

My body trembles and shakes—

With no diagnosis to blame.

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Just vulnerable.

With highs and lows,

All enraptured in being me.

Being vulnerable me.

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Drunkenness for me was never in shots or sips.

When this pacifier is removed,

I truly breathe,

I travel to a world of ecstasy,

Too much of a fantasy for the real world.

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Yet, I’m soon finding my people,

Who hate this shroud we’ve been forced to wear just as much.

Who love, who hold in high esteem

Vulnerable me.

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In a world where everyone follows sheepishly in their one way to feel,

I take joy in all the different ways I can be real.

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Hope you see and love me for the intensity of all of me…