Self Discovery: The Conclusion
Finding out one’s true self is nothing short of cathartic.
Discovering 99 pieces of dirt,
Then finally uncovering that one vein of gold.
I’ve been told,
That I was so many things over the years,
Now through shadows and fears
I’m seeing who I actually want to be,
Who God fashioned me to be.
A lover, yes,
A lover this is true
But a lover of what has become the target in view,
Sloughing away the old epithetials,
Of adherence to aesthetics,
An impotent view of God’s beauty,
Replaced by a robust appreciation of His existence,
Gorgeous in dimension,
His Son in ascension,
Every step of this microcosmic journey,
Shed key insight to who I am beneath the durface,
An embroiled longingly spoiled,
Sensual over sexual,
Spiritual over overtly contextual,
Spectral discussions of unnecessary the emotional,
Looked in the mirror saw a kid who had never been in love,
Thrice fooled into believing otherwise,
By shrewd and proud insides,
Funny what pride can do.
But its better what Bryce can do.
When he opens his complex cavity,
Giving way to beating heart,
And a genuine need to live life at its meridian,
Shake off the obsidian,
The dark and crusty substance that had once been his shell,
Indigenous, he was born with it,
Now he’s torn from it.
To become something better.