Self-Awareness.

 

With each day I take for granted, I vow to appreciate the next, blessed with the opportunity to once again look, and feel my best.  With my feet firmly planted, my morals maneuver me through all the rest, as I have been granted another day to conquer the world and put my limits to the test.  

Some may call me an idealist though I am as real as they come, as I refuse to succumb to the notion that we must all acquiesce to society's rules that really only just make us boring and numb.  

I can paint my own destiny, I am the master of my domain, though my moods and momentum may change in an instant, I am grateful that they change at all, as my indecision shows I'm living, and still standing despite my many falls.  
Others' attempts to understand me often leave them more perplexed than when they began, I am an anomaly and will not be mislabeled by any other man.  

A human being, not one doing, I live and let live just as well, yet I am still often the myth and then the legend that cowards and commoners attempt to dispel.  The subject and the predicate that illiterates will never know how to spell, I have won your game of thrones; I am the king of Winterfell.

Subjugated for far too long, I refuse to remain the victim of your abuse; either endure me or ignore me, your decision is your prerogative, I will not sit idly by waiting for you to choose.  You no longer hold the noose that tightens around my neck, no longer own the signature that validates my cheques.  

My strength lies in my resilience, eternal proverbial phoenix rising from the ashes that I am, this is where you remind me of why your approval is even worth a damn. Some have dubbed me the devil incarnate for I refuse to let anyone in, through the barricades I peer out through from inside my glass house made of equal sin.  

You claim that I am worse than you and even with my ego subdued I cannot accept something so absurd as allowing you to have the final word, I have much more to offer the world, for it will always be my oyster and I will always be its pearl.

Sibling Rivalry.

It must take incredible resolve to stay focused at the circus.  For some, chaos is the buzz and pestering of a simple fly.  It is a feat to stay afloat despite being deprived of a lifeboat.

With the self-restraint of saints, equipped with minimal complaint.  How does one bite their tongue through lifelong chronic pain, as their loved ones bellow over broken nails and migraines.

This kind of bravery seemed made for comic books and fairy tales; epics based on Viking Gods, or stories about sailors and sperm whales. Until that unforgettable day not too long ago, when I rubbed my eyes, in disbelief, as I watched my own sister effortlessly complete superhuman deeds.

There is nothing quite as loud as the silence that accompanies the truth; it echoes inside of us, before it blares like trumpets in a padded room and then blows off the roof.

I spent a lifetime believing confidence belonged to those who dared to shout.  Mistaken, now, as I admit my sister's silence did not stem from her self-doubt. Instead, it was her way of saving us from the fires we started in every single house.

Now, I burn from my own shame, for all the times I cursed her out, assumed she was my rival when she'd only been looking out.

For making false accusations to twisted sisters who laughed at me behind my back, and even to my face.  I cannot eat my acidic words, or ever remove those stains.  I can, however, commit to behaving the way a brother worthy of her should behave.

I beam, with pride now, as my vision is no longer clouded by my own delusion, or promises uttered by others only to be lost to the wind.  Grateful, more than ever, to have finally paid attention long enough to applaud an authentic femme fatale, who is also my best friend.

The fear of loss has made me quicker to count my blessings from above; the greatest of which, are her and our mother's unconditional love.  From sibling rivalry, to reverence, she is the one person I could never be without.  If it weren't for those pinches, I'd probably be six feet underground.

Shakti.

I stood there helplessly, drowning in defeat,
darkened by my inability to breathe life into
your rusted heart's resilient beat—
a symphony I memorized from the inside,

in forty weeks.

Incapable of returning you to the raven haired beauty of your prime, I bite my tongue until I'm numb, as if my lips have been sewn shut with twine.

You heal me when you hold me then transport me back in time, to the days of yesteryear, when I was still your innocent, little child.

I am haunted by the trauma when I will one day find, that I can no longer turn to you for comfort, or the reassurance of your smile.

I know I run but I am frightened, when I see you've become so frail.My mind refuses a reality where you are no longer my nightingale.

Your song lulled me into slumber, as you softly sang the world to sleep.

If only I had looked at you long enough to see,
that all you were ever doing was trying to love me.

There is no bond like that between a mother and her only son, even if he is less deserving of
her pride than he is of her scorn. 

Resolve.

I was not made to falter;
weakness looks better on other men.
And every time I hit the ground is
just a chance to build
my fortress walls anew.

When my city crumbles,
it does not mean that it
will never thrive again.
I refuse to listen to the protests
of my insecurities
that urge I quit while I'm afraid.

They may be ferocious beasts,
but I will not back down that easily.
This time—I choose to live!
I will not come undone.

So what if I sometimes slip
and sprain my resolve,
.I know I'm not the only one.
The moment has finally arrived
where I stand and fight,
and face my demons head on.

I won't give up, I'll soldier on
until I've crossed the finish line.
I will stumble forward 

long after the race has been won.

My late arrival to the ball
is no reason to sulk backstage;
the show must go on.

I choose to live! I won't give in.
My stubborn heart will not stop 

for anyone.

I carry on, I am quite strong.
The day has come for me 

to make my mark.

I'll take what's mine, long overdue;
I'll fight the urge to run and hide.
I choose to live—

and it's a beautiful feeling

to know that I have grown.