Why I am

October 23, 2011

I'm not in control.
My life is not my own.
I get pushed around.
No one notices the real me.
There's more than meets the eye.
Way more.

So how?
How do I let people in?
Why should I?
I almost don't want to.
But then I do.
I really, really do.

One day, I found it.
I found the way to let people know.
To uncap the emotions.
To show that I have thoughts.
And that I have a brain.

I write to give people a peek.
My soul.

I lay it all down.
Every time.
Hoping someone will care.
Maybe someone will know.
What it's like.

Maybe someone is like me.
A book bound tightly.
Wanting an outlet.
For the things that I think about.
The things that I care about.
Someone might get it.

That's why I'm so desperate to write.
To show everyone.
Because I can't keep it to myself.
Any longer.
I just have to let it go.

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