I arrive with no pretense

I bring myself in its fullness to the table

I stagger.

I bleed.

My age comes with an assumption.

My story comes with a history.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They will find me marked in the forest

Bound by sin.

Suffocated by cycles.

Lifeless by reason.

Reason being insanity.

They will find the sun,

Thinki t trivial, a girls night out,

A moment of rebellion and young excitement.

They will find the sun and not find me.

They will find life,

Etched on my back.

Myself proclamation,

Tol et live.

LIVE.

They will think it an exploration of history,

A desperate attempt to find myself.

Iam here.

You were lost, and I let you find me

They will note the shapes.

Think it juvenile.

Think it a Hollywood trend.

Equate it with oversized sunglasses and wedge heels or rainboots.

They will think.

I will know.

I bore the scars.

I wore the reminder of your sin.

And now, I wear the mark of my self proclamation.

The ywill find me in the forest.

They will say I lost my way home.

They will say I ran from a darkness

Andperhaps

Yearslater,

In a new school of thought.

They will finally know the attainment of self