Conformity or creation? Acceptance or deviance?
I sit here questioning my own expression. Is my flamboyance a cover for insecurities and a Band-Aid for imperfection? Is my expression a production or innately me? Am I an essence of travels, a dash of diversity, a pinch of parents, a stitch of society? I like to think I embody my past and project my future.
Colored by my culture, odd socks upon my feet
Searching for that piece, for a puzzle that’s complete
Is it love, is it time, is it found in you?
I guess today’s a day that words will have to do…