It makes me… Me.

Drop delusion:

The core of who I am 

I bleed

I think

I breathe

I am

Poetry.

Soul Identity Race Gender Preference Social Class

This remains within my grasp – Do you feel the rhythm of the beat of me?

I see

A glimpse of God and Heaven 

When I write,

And even when I don’t get things quite right

I’ve got this.

And there are times

When I still operate out of 

Ego & Pride

Trying to figure out which

Parts of me to show & which parts to hide

It is impossible

To deny

This one thing.