Unconcealed Heart

Photo By Timothy Paul Smith

Whatever you think I am,
I’m not.
Whatever you want me to become,
I won’t.
Whatever you see in me,
I don’t possess.


I am not your good,
I am not your evil,
I am not your aspiration
I am not your savior
I am not your friend


Your expectations, 
Are ashes beneath my feet
Your hopes,
Come to die by my hands


I am not your beauty
I am more.
I am not your ugly.
I am worse.
I am not your kindness
I am stone
I am not your apathy
I am Love.


Don’t tell me what I can be
I find your imagination limited
Don’t tell what I should’ve been
I find your ideas insulting


I am not your human
I am dust
I am not your Life
I am Death
I am not your Hell
I am God


I am my End
I am my beginning
I am nothing to you

Or anyone else.


So stop.
Stop defining me.
Stop with the labels.
Stop with your efforts to classify
Stop with the belittling
Stop trying to put me on a pedestal
Stop fishing for signs to understand

and
Just ask

Ask me
Who am I
Ask me,
What I can be
Ask me,
What I want to be to you.
Ask me,
What I’ll do for you,
to you
Ask me,
How I’ll love
How I’ll care
How I’ll hurt.



Come to me as you truly are
And I’ll unravel like a spool
That has been tugged 
by an unconcealed heart.




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