Letters to myself…To be who I am To who I am not.

If I could fit at the top of a mountain line,

I would seat and watch the world intertwine,

As people whined and sighed over life's unforgiving signs,

I would seat and watch as they intertwined,

As people burst in the confusion and twirled in inconclusive illusions,

I would seat and watch as they intertwined.

I wish so desperately for seconds in a day to be alone,

To remind myself of what I am in my soul,

For confinement in my mind rediscovering that person sole....LY,

Never letting go of what I have been told,

To chew and swallow all that the world throws,

Whether hot or cold.

Because around all these demons,

You forget your cute little ribbons

of innocence, that transform into little horns,

Of deceit,

Numerous characters of you you have built,

To paint little mirages of deceit,

Numerous tongues you have slipped,

Little words of deceit,

To deceive the demons,

But you only deceive yourself.

You are who you are when alone,

Unbathed by flowery scented oils that mask your odour,

Untouched by airs beyond your vacuum that blow away your delicate leaves,

So if I could seat at the top of a mountain line,

I would sing with the birds,

Breath with the trees,

Fly with the clouds,

For we would be who we really are