Shifting

From a girl who can’t fit. As hard as she tried.

I am done. 
Simply cannot try anymore.
I got to the end.
My own pain and bleeding. My reaction to ache. 

It is time.

The freedom of accepting that I don’t measure up. 
I am done with fake.
I don’t think like the others. 
Never could, never knew why. I tried and I jostled, cue angry cry.

It is time

I really like what is coming from me. 
The words. And the mantras. 
The bold severity. 
Manifestos of disestablishment.


It is time.

Time to be me. Have to be me.
There is no other way.
Take me or leave me.
(I know I’ll be left.)

It is time.


So cares to the wind. 
I’ll speak my mind.
It is time.
It is time.