I grant myself the right to be
Scared of being fake
Of not taking that leap in faith
And turning into an orphan of strength
The fear of holding back
Has to fill my every breath
But not the fear of regret
Such
Must never in me be shed
I take dread as an alert
A scarlet siren awakening me
Setting me free
Not as an opportunity to conform
Nor to shatter or flee
I made from fear
An armor of steel
So I could my bravery steer
To meet my weaknesses
And desert them through the years
YOU ARE READING
The Faces Of Nudity
Poetry◐∇◐◐∇◐◐∇◐◐∇◐◐∇◐ What am I when I don't need to pretend? When I am my own company? When I am in the comfort of a quiescent place? Our true faces remain hidden under expensive suits and cases. And "The Faces of Nudity" prompts a different gaze to the...
