Escaping A Post Traumatic Cell

New Day

Waking up to a new day. 

Let the pain of yesterday, fade away.

Allow the tension to find a different prey, 

and don't let your head fall in the same way.

Some call it a dead end and all I see are new beginnings, 

new winnings, laid out, for the taking.

Although I don't leap as often as I should, 

I may not speak as often as I could,

but today I wont be taken advantage of like I would, 

any other day.

Fragile - my bones creak. 

Strong - my heart beats.

My brain brings me a treat with,

words, 

sights, 

sounds, 

but my eyes tend to stay glued to the ground as sometimes, I, 

don't feel it's right, 

to bask in equality's light, 

to feel the same pleasures of the night, 

to speak and be heard and not toyed with like a child.

Who am I?

How do I keep the same image you see of me, in my minds eye? 

With great big eyes and a wide, toothy grin. 

A sweet young girl who she looks like she could win. 

They treat her foul like shes already committed some type of sin - 

for crimes she wouldn't even know how to begin.

So, my self image is skewed, which, leads to me being used, 

and no one ever stops to question how deep I play the blues. 

Hey, it's alright. Treat me poorly on sight - on principle. 

You will see that now, I refuse to lose the fight. 

1-28-09