Talents of the Misconstrued

I saunter blissfully down cracked pavements, over shards of broken glass. Barefooted. Letting the shattered pieces mend my equally shattered skin. An attempt to make amends with the nuisances of the world. I take it all in. I take in the pain, grievances, and sorrow of those who cross my path. I take in the anger, the jealousy, despair. The wonders. Oh, the wonders.

They don’t know me.
They stop and stare and wonder in utter amazement at my exposure.
Taking me in bare. I let them. I blatantly let them.
They don’t know me.

Confined behind a mass of emotions for so long has left me shameless. I am ashamed to admit. A dried shell disintegrating into a million fragments. Like the glass beneath my blood enclosed feet. The many walls I have built have come tumbling to the ground. But as still as a statue, I remain. Until every single bit of my wall has collided with the earth.

Years of absorption has left me hidden in the shadows of the foreign moon. Silhouetted under obscure skies and overlooked currents. Taking in all the ways of the world. Grasping the realities.

My sudden entity has left them in awe.
Unfazed and unaffected,  I am left exposed.
They finally know me.

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