Naked

Such bright beginnings full of hope and illustrious dreams of all powerful grandeur. We were meant to be the absolute perfection, succeeding where all others had and would always ultimately fail. Weighed upon our flimsy wills were our costumes of multicolored gifts. We would always win, always overcome, always withstand whatever might try and pull us down. To us, the world was to be an adventure that would be tamed simply by us navigating though it. How blinding it was, our ignorance. So determined to fit those preset molds, we eventually lost the gift of our individuality. As the years wore on, the rough road of life scraped away our shiny coats that we wore so proudly. Each step down the path stripped away a little more of the hoax that we tried so hard to convince ourselves was real. In the end we find ourselves standing naked surrounded by the tattered pieces of our ill-conceived lie. Arms bloodied from forcing ourselves through a place we were never meant to see, face bruised from the constant battles we had with our true identities. This moment, though scary and cold, is a chance at rebirth. We can go forward from here as a newborn soul that's had a glimpse of where the dark road goes. This can be the opportunity to step into reality with our eyes stretched open in an impenetrable glare that forces the voices of opposition to step aside. Only now, we get this chance. Who's to say that tomorrow shall bring it again? All hope isn't gone, is it?