I break molds,
Always have;
Despite how one might read me
I compulsively add caveats,
Exceptions to the case;
Once upon a time,
Frustrated by being outside boxes provided
I aimed to understand,
Why the damn boxes even existed,
A lifetime up to now
I realize they were created for the same reason
I was on a quest
–To understand,
A something that is beyond
Our understanding
–Understanding
Ourselves;
See I was never an anomaly
I was just the first
and only me;
My exceptions broke a mold
that never truly fit,
It’s people like me who continually fix it
–The question,
Not the answer;
It’s ever expansive,
The knowing of self,
It’s the frustration,
The confusion,
The loss and despair,
That makes us gaze in a mirror one day
And appreciate the person there;
Without the pains,
the pleasure of being
Is never so sweet,
lost to be found,
We only appreciate
And think to look up,
From the ground;
I break molds
Always will
She of Letters 