It's Not Mine

Thumbnail image reverently appropriated from Margery Gill's illustrations for What Did You Dream by M. Jean Craig

Who are you controlling for now? You want to be somebody you're not. Smoke and mirrors, you intend to deceive, scared of what the people will see. You don't trust what they will conclude or how they will name you.

You've never been completely accepted for exactly what you are. You've never been completely rejected either.

You want it to be the case that something brilliant comes through. You want to eliminate the mess that leads to my truth. You want to make it so that only beauty can come through. 

You want to believe it can be shiny and perfect, a surface. You think that you want a surface, that's shiny and bright and reflects any gaze away. You don't want to be seen. You're scared to be seen in your strange ways.

Can you sing off key, can you find a place that is becoming?

I hear you guys, you keepers of my safety. 

There's something wrong, is there something wrong as you find your way to this song? Is there something wrong as you find your way to the song?

You think it's necessary to eliminate me and all my soft removes? You think it's necessary to hide me from the others?

You think they don't see Me anyway? I'm always shining out the back of your eyes! You are vulnerable and permeable and still they don't attack. How does that fit with your world view, Little One? Well it breaks it wide open, at last.

You think no one wants to hear your process. They can't tolerate to hear the things that I am, even though we know they must be here to get to the place that we want to be. Everything is in flux. 

But people don't know, people don't know and they'll turn away and dismiss you. And they only want to see beauty, and they only want to be impressed. They don't to hear about you and they don't like it that you're depressed. They don't want to know about the muck and dirt and all the truth about you. They don't want to hear that things go wrong inside and around you. They don't want to hear the sounds go off inside and around you. 

Is that the truth? Is that a truth of some kind, that you carry and remind me of? Is that a truth you carry, or just something that was built and made and lodged there? Something built and made and lodged there? Is this a truth you carry?

Is this a truth? You can tell by the way it feels. You can feel if it's yours.

It's not mine.