To say I in a crowded room

Here I am before you,

with all my mismatching parts

I’m not cohesive
like the jig-saw puzzles and crosswords my mother would complete
by the kitchen bench
sipping black coffee
as a cigarette burns,

I’m not my father’s science-law-management mind,

I’m not my brother’s musical hands,

nor my twin sister’s model-like stance
and socially-popular trance,

I am many things
But I’m not those things,
I’m my own things,
and I refuse apologise for those that I’m not,

I can write you a little something
that feels like a song
as you read the words in silence,
that unlocks that little something inside of you
that you’ve kept hidden for far too long,

Grass anywhere excites me, entices me
to dance, to pause, to drop my self-doubt,
all feelings of insignificance, all tensions of inadequacy,
are beginning to fall away,

to leave the door ajar
leave my shoes beneath the window-sill
and glide around varnished floor-boarded-corners in polka-dot-socks,

to let my hair down,
throw my arms out
and embrace the world
around me,
within me,
there,
where my fingertips reach the core,

I want to rip out all self-expectation that makes me stutter
and tarnishes simple interactions

So it’s time
to lay it all out,

To my poor time management
– Time is just a concept

To my terrible sense of direction
– The heart leads to where it hears it’s call

To my messy bedroom
– This, is like a museum of my scattered mind

To my unaddressed to-do-list
– I will get to you tomorrow.

To my blemished skin, skinny limbs, soft voice, roaring laugh, clumsiness, and overly-trusting naivety,
– these are all parts of me

That I’ll no longer apologise for,

That I own

’cause I’m finding ways to use these ‘vices’ constructively.

To find home in my weaknesses so that I can build
a solid foundation with my broken pieces
and find a clay to hold myself together,
to feel whole all on my own.

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