When you ask me how I feel,
Do you ask for the lies?
That I am ever ready to spit out,
A broken record spinning on a broken gramophone.
Or do you ask for a rare sliver of honesty?
Where my heart speaks, unrestrained;
Not my mind.
I know you too well to know the latter,
Would shock all of your five senses.
A rude awakening of sorts.
Dispel the image of the obsequious girl,
Ever ready to conform to the standards.
A girl who knows what is expected of her
And acts in accordance.
A girl who takes pride in the fact,
That she is able to provide what society demands,
A girl, so used to covering up her true desires,
That she sometimes forgets they ever lived.
A girl who is viewed by the world,
As a perfect example.
One who is thought to have it all,
And she gives them no reason to doubt
That behind this facade of perfectionism,
Hides a Neanderthal.
A primitive being satiated by happiness and love alone.
Behind this grand mask,
Hides a five year old child, with the sole aim of becoming a bird.
When you ask me how I feel,
I should ask you to sit down,
For I feel the time has come at last,
For my mouth to utter the words they should have in the first place.
I will not deny the savage pleasure I will feel,
Watching your self-satisfied smirk change into a gape of shock,
As I tear down the hideous wall-paper that adorns my walls.
I will see your eyes reflect something more than fear,
As I break all the fine china, handed down from generations past.
I always thought they were hideous, and wildly impractical.
Since you have asked me how I feel,
Let me tell you.
I feel the time has come,
To throw away my years of hard-work,
My years of preparation for a lifetime of misery.
Watch me build a bonfire in my backyard,
Let the glow of the burning embers illuminate your face,
Bring you out from the darkness.
I have come to pity you,
With your belief that happiness only exists in the mundane,
Your belief that happiness can be won by years of misery.
I hereby declare myself a lunatic,
One who no longer wishes to be the darling of society.
One who wishes to do nothing more,
Than to watch the stars every night before escaping to the realm of dreams,
To feel the waves caressing my toes,
To watch the sun bleed red as it prepares to make way for the night,
To have a hand to hold, arms to dissolve in,
After an honest days work of feeding my soul.
To find true love wherever and whatever it may be,
In an isolated meadow, hidden from society,
In misty blue hills, lying low in the dawn,
Buried deep in the sand, dusted with gold,
With warm waves forever hiding its path.
I no longer wish to be a rat,
Forever chasing the proverbial cheese in a race obviously rigged from the start.
After my speech follows silence,
Not the bursts of praise that usually stem from your mouth.
I leave in my wake shock,
A dream-like quality, made misty by the smoke.
As I exit the premises I feel my sudden burst of conviction begin to fade.
The real world begins to tighten its grip on me,
Leaving me with marks that may never fade.
As I sink down to the floor, with my head in my hands,
Only three words play on my lips,
Give me strength.