The expressionist in you in yelping just a little.
Not whimpering, not screaming.
Just crying a little, softly. And then loudly.
Only for a second.
Is it ashamed of what they’ll think?
It wants to come out and play. You should let it.
Your inspiration isn’t getting the best of you, and that is an awful shame.
Declare your fascination for self.
Disregard your doubt in them.
Keep your need for personal expression at the forefront.
We all know what we see.
Only you know who you are.
Give us a hint.
We’re tired of guessing. And assuming.
You’re tired of hiding. and restricting.