I am emotionally in
a lockdown from the capture by my mind. These feelings that are mine, that
would surely fly skyward with lightness and glee, are tethered from liftoff.
And eventually they live with clipped wings as if just cut-short memories. What
would have been flights of sumptuous expression live as graffiti, cooling on my
interior emotional floors. Read to myself as mutterings without the bearing
from the moment of their birth. I am emotionally posterized with layers of
these held in restraint as if these feelings are made of floorboards that give
me a statuesque sense of emotional presence often presented as myself to others,
standing close at hand. But really, I am an emotional three-ring circus yet no
one else is admitted into this tent of myself. Although my tent itself is made
of mental sincerity, strong and stalwart almost rocklike by appearance, it
hardly allows any emotional expression to get out that is not soundly mentally
approved. My mindful critique is thorough and mentally absorbed before verbal
pronouncement is allowed. It is as if I am my own one-man media of political
and rational correctness and I edit and release as appropriately as mentally
deemed to be acceptable. I am personally forbidden to error in favor of clear
and pure emotional expression though I am profoundly fascinated in its
boundless pronouncement, coming from others. I am giddy with what I can hear
but not formally my self say. Surround me with acrobats and clowns of emotional
freedom and I am a pillar of audience appreciation, bleacher full of massive
silent applause and clear eyed with shear joy. They are my mouth that never
opens. They are my impulse in public acclaim. They are the woods of my bare
emotional nakedness and the natural flow of my clouded emotional sky. I want to
leave behind these statues and their poses of my prohibition, my emotional
predisposition of withheldness, and the overcompensation of mental sincerity I
put forth. I want my life with emotional charisma from within to sponsor me. I
want my self to say my feelings, and given wings to cloudless flights. I want
my gift of touch to match my feel, my verbal tones to reflect emotional paintings
now in process from within me. I want my stoic to melt down into essences and
fragrances that spellbind me into self love and self loved shared. I too, find
me as viewless as if emotionally captured yet readily able to give emotional
sky underfoot to others in every passing. My heart of hearts feels that way
ongoing. And with this acknowledgment to myself in writing, how to set myself,
stone by stone, pose by pose, feather by feather, moment by moment, to a now,
emotionally expressive and free to be in wholly here and I, in your readership
presence, to be as resoundingly true to myself, deep into the grounded core of
me . . .
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