Pieces of Me

Pieces of Me

I always thought, being alone was my choice. That I didn’t want or need anyone, to know who I am.

I am realizing, the opposite is true. I am a hyper-sensitive creature. My love and loyalty, knows no bounds, and I crave reciprocation.

Only with time, consistency, and comfort, does my shield begin to dissipate. When my walls come crashing down, I catch feelings quickly, and lose them even quicker.

I am extremely selective, with whom I allow access to my being. To hear me paint a picture of my mind, body, and soul.

So when I give pieces of myself; feelings, hopes, and fears to another; Whether it be, friend, family, or lover, that very act of speaking, becomes the epitome of intimacy.

With my essence lain bare, vulnerable to influence and pain, susceptible to damage;

To allow me to feel both understood and rejected, seen and dismissed; is the ultimate form of punishment and violence.

So rather than open myself up, to voluntarily receive emotional lashings. I continue to walk my path alone.


-Mirage

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