I’ve gotten caught up.
Caught up in your challenges,
I’ve accepted too many.
Your expectations, I’ve taken on too many.
Your critiques of me are the only things you have Traveler, Gypsy boy without ties.
I’ve gotten caught up in the falsehoods you promote, though they’re lies.
I’ve gotten caught up in being your perfect project.
Acid in my eyes thrown at me from what you want me to be.
I am me.
The master of my own ship, with my own mind. I’m not your puppet, no Pinnochia here, just the depths of my brain to which you all seem to disrespect but fear …
I’m not your project. Not going to be your puppet. See I have no owner, no one will ever own me. Through pure love without judgement and with full acceptance is where I release myself into the wind and into another’s home and heart.
I am a free bird who nests. I am a free bird who requires rest. I am a free bird with nothing to prove. I am a free bird calculating my flight pattern.
Nothing to prove to you Gypsy boy who’s heart I’ve destroyed because I wouldn’t be your project, wouldn’t continue to swim in a pool of doubt and regret.
I’ve pulled myself from the pits of depression, this is real talk, no counseling session. I won’t go back to being that project. I use my voice and my hippie heart projects.