And I don’t want to go,
feeling that innate fear.
Swallowing all the air around me,
I’m needing to feel anything,
anything other than this fear.
Innate, is it ?
I struggle to recognize friend from enemy.
Are they true?
Are they plotting my failure?
For me, I’m a shadow,
hiding in plain sight.
Then, there’s a side screaming,
“Don’t discount me!”
There are strengths,
ideas left shown without words.
Two sides to every story are withheld.
Scrutiny is bare like the bones of my skeleton.
Bare.
I’ve been picked apart for the last time.
Bare bones are starting to write their story.
Dawning Creations 
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