Every day someone out there is telling us how we should feel. They are telling you to be this way or that way, otherwise, you are not living right. They are telling you that there is only one right way or one specific path. They tell you that what they think matters, but what you think does not.
In a world full of voices telling you that yours doesn’t matter, it’s important to remember one thing: someone out there believes in your voice. I believe in your voice, I value the words you say, and the thoughts you think. There are millions of people in the world, each one containing thoughts that agree and disagree with you. Yet, not one of these people can own your thoughts.
When the world tells me how I should feel or how I should think, when it overwhelms me and takes away my agency and sucks the life from me, I remember that person. I desperately cling to the people who have faith in me and who hear me.
I decided to write a poem to help express this:
You see the face in the mirror,
you recognize the structure, the eyes.
You reach your hand outwards,
to stroke that face of lies.
The lips are curled, pursed and full,
suggesting emotion, joy, content.
They see happiness,
all I see is energy spent.
The hand reaches back,
the smile begins to fade.
The distance grows between you,
the world cuts like a blade.
It invades your thoughts,
consumes your mind.
The reflection fades from focus,
you grasp the air to find.
You can’t recall the image,
or the eyes you knew so well.
All you see is lines and curves,
everything they continue to tell.
The air begins to rise,
it wraps its hands around you.
Your eyes begin to water,
you’re certain you are through.
It grips your hand, your shoulder,
whispers, and shakes,
pulls you away from the fog,
and the image that is fake.
You see different eyes,
but still, you know,
this face is saving you,
from the darkness layered below.