An organised mess

Shedding my skin

Exhausted, tired from guilt 

a painful past,  which I have milked, 

holding on to the mistakes I have made

I have been scared to let go of my demons, 

I was always ashamed. 

I spent all-too long trying to understand,

I spent all-too long wary of offering a hand, 

I'm tired of shaking when I pay at a till, 

I'm tired of talking about my troubles, 

just to be handed a pill, 

I'm tired of my differences labelling me as ill. 

 Exhausted, I think really I exhaust myself, 

craving and aiming to be like everybody else, 

rather than embracing me, 

I wish I could just be, 

happy and in love with the skin I am in. 

My hardened-leather skin, is starting to stale 

depriving myself from sunlight, 

my skin transparent, pale 

and I learn as I begin to get old, 

like a snake, 

to grow, 

you have to let go. 

I detached each parasite which I had started to host, 

I forgave the people that hurt me, 

I forgave myself, and looked in the mirror to make a toast, 

forgiving me, 

was what I struggled with the most. 

I shed my past, my memories, my skin, 

I let go of the anger I had been living in, 

I breathed in new air 

I breathed in new life 

and decided shedding wouldn't just happen once, 

it would happen twice. 

I would shed my skin like a snake, every-day 

and whenever I reached I new obstacle,

I would shed my skin and create a way.