Faces

The ways in which I view
My reality come to the surface
With each new day.
Some days are heavy and I learn
To sit instead of resist the way
In which my mind has learned
To operate, the protections
In place to keep me sane
While I wiggle room to dance
In the madness of my mind
Under the stars and screens.
Some days are light and I can
Comfortably carry the versions
Of myself with ease and grace,
Knowing the roles they played
Which made me the woman
I am today. With the inner critic away,
My thoughts are reorganizing
To become someone who can
Trust myself, to hear my voice,
To stop avoiding and start finally
Writing down what I have to say
Without fear of what I cannot control.