Realized

You realized
that I am not
what you thought

I was.
That I am not
the Free

you see
floating in the
air when

you walk into
my space–
no, that is a

carefully curated
facade. It is not made
to fool you, but to keep

me in order.
To hold me to something.
To give me somewhere

to put All Of It.
You realized I am not
who you thought

I was. That I do not
care to pretend
for the sake of

pretending. That
I am not here for
your entertainment–

no matter
how much Muse
I may play in the First Act.

You realized that
it is a lot,
in every act.

You realized
that I can watch
you come and go

with exactly
the same face,
not a priority

until you earn it–
and you will
earn it if you are.

I realized
that I have
given myself

up far too
many times
to come crawling

to where you stand
so that you
see me for

what you’ve realized
I am not; for what
you’ve realized

I am. I realized I am
no longer in the
business of

crawling to
people
who watch me

dredge through
the mud only to ask
why I’m dirty

when I get there.
I realized it is not the mud
that is bothersome

but the anti-
reciprocal
way in which I

am received.
I am not interested in
being “received”.

Embrace me for all of
the mud that I brought
and worry about the mess

later. Better yet!
Abandon your station
and meet

me in the mud;
hold my hand until
our fingers become dirt;

Realize: my love
is not for
those unwilling

to get dirty;
unwilling
to meet me in the mud.

Have you
realized you are not
willing to get dirty,

yet?