What if one day
I disappeared,
Deleted my virtual existence,
Stopped seeing my regular friends,
Lost contact with all?
What if one day
I stopped wishing
For who I could one day be,
And instead,
Became that being?
What if one day
I turned off the world around me,
And did all the things I ever wished?
In a month I’d rid my old skin,
Sweat off my past disappointments,
Reminders of sin.
In a month my hair would grow
To lengths of which I myself paved,
In a month
My knowledge of
Culture ,
Academia,
and Myself,
Would expand.
But in that month
I’d lose my friends.
Hurt those who simply cared and wondered.
What would that make me?
Just as bad as those
Who urge me to disappear?
Or just as good as those
Who promote self-evaluation?
There is indeed a middle balance.
But that . . .
that's for the healthy-minded.
I remember when I truly wished to escape to a land where I was unrecognizable. I'm glad I've gotten better since the day I had originally written this poem.
