Four

I forgive the world for making me feel invisible. You see me, yet look straight through. But it’s ok, because up until this moment, I didn’t realize how oblivious I have been as well.

Calm down, your emotions are not validated.

Shut down, your voice is not recognized.

Skewed, warped, distorted, you do not see me, but I don’t care if I am seen, I’m supposed to be your reflection . . . if you do not see me, how do you see you?

One step at a time, I reorder my world around me, but the more of my own dust bunnies I sweep into the light, the more I expose your dark underbelly, the decaying crumbs of cheap dreams you gorged on trying to convince yourself that this was the real deal.

I had a plan . . . but I think I forgot what the point was.

The funny thing is I do know the real secret. Life breathed spirit into me and requested that I return the trade with personal expression, but it did not ask me for my opinions – and yes, there is a difference.

I wasn’t built to be a critical machine, but a creative one.

I like to tell myself 3 things over and over:
1. Good things happen in 3’s
2. So do bad things
3. You can choose when to start counting

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