The owner of the trigger

Deep wounds,

Rising to the surface,

Exposing itself as a fresh cut despite historical evidence,

Triggered by a simple word within a friendly exchange,

Am I good enough loops like a broken record,

Damage from the past has exposed itself as an issue in the present,

My choices have led to this current feeling,

Knowing they didn't see my value,

Knowing I feel my value,

But a conflict brews between the two,

A constant battle strong in worthiness only to drown in unworthiness,

Fragility hides behind the fingers that pulled the trigger,

It's restricting, built on a made-up complex, 

No, I don't have hair that coils into the shape of a spiraling sea shell,

No, my aesthetic is not one found on the footpaths of Broadway,

I do not mimic the unrealistic beauty standards that a corset and extractions provide,

And no, my sense of style is based on my everchanging mood,

I'm human.

To understand my mood, you must understand that my inner world is an energetical concoction of feminine and masculine, and I determine which vibration flows out to play. 

You will not mould me into who you think I should be,

Nor will I be your weekend escape or fulfill your thirst for an exotic fantasy. 

I deserve to be accepted for my flaws and all,

To be loved and told, "You're my type, I want it all",

If I'm not yours to keep, then please, for the love of God don't fight the resistance, 

Don't force the mismatched shapes to fit,

Why waste our precious time?! 

'Cause while you wrap your head around my differences that pose as an enticing adventure for temporary stimulation, I've worked out some things... 

You see, the thing is, while I may be different, you're all the same.