Colors Flying High
When I hear her name, it’s not my own.
Is the boy staring at me behind the mirror just mind play?
To them, to you, his reflection does not match
Like a ripple in the water, he seemed to fade away.
His body was liberty,
unlike the prison of my own.
Trapped within the gift mother gave me,
mother I beg forgiveness you wouldn’t had known.
One chooses a color to live by,
and “she” is not cut out to be my true identity.
Why can’t no one else see the guy that lives inside me?
The one that allows me to make myself free.
To the boy awaiting to come out,
alone and scared, Augustine roams…
I know all he wants to do is doubt,
but as long as he’s me, he will never be alone.