Shattered

By Joel Abakah

Sigh! What was wrong with who I was? I looked into the mirror of everyone's criticism and saw the reflection of my mediocrity and inadequacy. Was I just bare with no trace of refinement? I never sought for change but society wanted to make me elegant and accepted so I had to conceal the identity of my true self with this make-up of hypocrisy.

Pardon me. It's not my outward appearance I changed. But rather my inward originality that harbored safely in who I am (was). It felt serene until the invasion. As being myself only triggered attacks of dislike towards me.Now it only matters whom I impress and please, as far as I imprison authenticity and keep it from release. This is who I have had to become. I had to fit in and so my originality had to succumb.

Being an outcast felt lonely. And wanting to fit into society's definition of normal, I've had to inject my characteristics and mutate them with these genes of false identity. Indeed I have changed! I never wished to change but wishes don't come true, do they? So I tried it, tried to be my own fairy god person. Trying to fly from everyone's rejection to my acceptance, but my flight never made it. Because I got missing in the Bermuda Triangle of society's ridicule and till date my originality remains a lost part of my being. With who I am now I can only ask myself this, is this who I am, is this me? Is this who I am, is this how I should be?

Carefully, critically, I again stand in front of a mirror. I observe my newly acquired features through this mirror of self actualization and see an unrecognizable image that has no trace back to my true self lineage. And like the mirror in snow white this mirror cannot lie. And as I tried to force this reflection of 'perfection' from it uncompromising view, it shattered. Unable to bear the sight of my cloaked authenticity. Maybe if I knew that rejection could be acceptance, that dislike was just a misunderstood like, that fitting in sometimes did make loose. Then maybe I could have avoided my long threaded tragedy.

Why couldn't I be me?

Why shouldn't I be myself?

My good and unique self.

I just wasn't.... now I'm shattered. Sigh!

 

 

Are you a poet or a writer? Fill this form to join the SOD family if interested:

https://forms.gle/tDfWV9QLZfvLZ63N8

WhatsAppp: +233547414116

Blog:https://splendorsdpf.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/Splendors-of-Dawn-Poetry-Foundation-Ghana-113304200498774/?__tn__=%2Cg

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p/CEjvKiZlfY6/?igshid=176z8ozmgj4bx

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/Splendors_dawn?s=09

Email: splendorsdpf@gmail.com