woah, who turned the lights on in here!

we think it’s easier to do what we’re told. what’s expected of us. to laugh softer when we’re shot a glance. cover our teeth with our manly hands. little paper cuts for the doubt to seep in, settling like a tattoo, inky beneath the skin’s surface, but visibly ghastly. markings we didn’t choose like a bruise, violently imparted upon us. but what’s the price you pay for continuously dimming that light? your one, wondrous light? one day, you find yourself on the floor, in. complete. darkness. and all those people you adjusted that light switch for will not be sitting next to you. so you’ve hit it. rock bottom. before you emerge, take it in. what does it feel like, to live as a shadow of yourself. all those big, scary traits they hated, you hated. do you still? hate them? they’re really not so bad are they. those braces had a pop of color, and made your smile memorable. that kinky hair had magic in it, long one day and short the next, not a pair of scissors in sight. those scars made you careful with the words you used for other’s bodies. hmmmmmm. hold on. I like her! my shadow. I think I could love her even. and taking your time, you feel your way from the floor to the closet doors, to the wall, to the switch. and you let the world see what you were sooooo ashamed of. because you’re not ashamed anymore. woah, who turned the lights on in here!