I WAS TRYING TO MAKE A POINT TO EVERYONE BUT MYSELF

I was trying to make a point

To be something people considered impossible for someone like me.

I never truly understood what that meant--to be someone like.

I had no defined picture of who was,

So I steadied my gaze on the mirror of opinions,

Trying to adjust myself to its reflection

diffracting the light in my eye

playing to the gallery

with no real audience.

Everyone wore a haughty Iook,

Unimpressed by my act,

Because I was trying to be something I couldn't be.

It was a daunting task,

Having the performance of my life scrutinized by people who barely loved me,

Or made any attempt to

I was trying to prove a point,

To them,

Whoever they were,

That within this heart of mine

Was a treasure worth finding?

Tap dancing, can't they feel the rhythm of my soul?

Excruciating, the air in my lungs tightened.

I was overperforming

Enraged by their mocking silence

I will succeed, I told myself,

But for what reason?

To laugh at the joke I was becoming?

Shouting at the top of my voice

Hoping someone would recognize me

As though they've never seen these desperate eyes a thousand times.

I was trying to prove something to everyone but myself

I did at the end, for nothing.

Who I became was nothing like me

I lost something more precious than the accolades I received--my happiness

An emptiness crowned my success.

I was trying to prove something

To everyone but my myself and lost everything

Including my life.