Some day I will stop pretending. Normality will numb me no longer. Some day the weird, the wonderful, the wild, will wander freely from my soul into the watching world. Some day I will hear that usual mental reprimand - "Shh, shh; too loud, too soft, too bright, too dark, too false, too true" - and I will reprimand the reprimand. It cannot silence me forever. Some day I will be free.
When I feel the dance begin to wind its way through bones and tendons, curling tight and fierce around my limbs, I will not force myself to march straight ahead like a little toy soldier. When I feel the laughter rumbling somewhere in my ribcage, I will not confine it. When I recognize the tears that come unbidden from eternity past to swallow me whole in the black sorrow of the ages, I will refuse to paste the plastic smile across my face.
No. Some day I will exist, and you will see me.
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