People say “A penny for your thoughts “
Then they sell them for a dollar.
As if your thoughts are only valid
By giving them to others.
The secrets I have shared
I paid dearly for giving
Away to those that only took them
As a ransom, not believing.
They are my treasures
The secrets I keep
Never meant for those that are shallow
Unaware, self obsessed and weak.
I learned to bite my tongue
And not choke as it bled
As I held tightly onto
Things better left unsaid.
I’m not sure I am capable
Of giving anymore of me away
Other than these ink filled pages
That make it to the light of day.
I’ve closed myself off
All access has been denied
I’m no longer willing to barter
My self worth for your pride.
The days have long since passed
Where I would make myself small
To accommodate your ego
You would rise, I would fall.
I got through feeling it all
And I’m still consciously aware
I’ve just become detached to
The point that I don’t care.
I am no longer a beacon
Throwing out lifelines
For I am unbecoming
Every trait that wasn’t mine.
I am cutting out the pieces
Of what you added to me
Covering the scars
No one is entitled to see.
I’m sitting still in the silence
Engulfed in the darkness humming
The necessary purge
Of simply Unbecoming.
