I forgot that part of my essence is the discomfort I cause.

 

The discomfort that preludes rejection, 

 

The discomfort that rattles peace, 

 

The discomfort that activates what has laid dormant

 

and you’re afraid to see.

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I subdued the red parts of my story,

 

For it to be faint and kind,

​

while my soul trembles inside me,​

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I broke through the doubtful ceiling in my mind.

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I need to breathe

 

not be chocked out by my own fear 

 

Or better yet, 

 

The fear of how I may appear.

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No more safety in dark places.

 

I need freedom,

 

To see the light. 

 

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To dare,

 

To dream, 

 

To hurt, 

 

To heal, 

 

To try, 

 

To fail, 

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To fly.

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- Brianna Nechelle