This is me
without the mask.
Without the cloak of lip-stain
nor foundation’s clever
camouflage.
This is me
without the guise
of alcohol,
nor the veil
of psychotropic drugs.
Without the cover
of cigarettes,
the shroud of sex,
the facade of sugar,
nor the veneer
of narcotics.
This is me
before leaving the house,
not knowing
what the day would bring.
This is me
with that sly half smirk
teasing my face.
With those knowing eyes
that can’t un-see,
that have witnessed things
that shouldn’t have been.
Trauma incurred,
Nirvana on earth,
secrets so deep,
they can’t be whispered.
Realms and worlds
filled with magic and glee
that only existed
to me.
This is me—
The pain goes deep.
But oh,
so does the love.
The light stretches far,
a twinkling star,
within a constellation formed
to guide the lost—
And will continue to do so
long after I’m gone.
My tears flow from gratitude
and from strength.
How I discipline my body
and train my mind.
How I prioritize my health
above all else—
This is me.
This is me.
And I am standing here
without the masks.
It’s okay for you
to see me now.
This is me
and damn, I’m proud.
Every storm shows me
that I know how to sail.
Every smile shows me
there’s an end to each wail.
I am free to be loved
as me—All of me.
Not for my masks,
but for my authenticity:
A beauty
that needs no filter.
I’m not scared
to be me
anymore.
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