X’s Over E(x)pression

I feel censored beneath
the crippling weight of
everything that is expected of me.

To be upright and 
correct, to live under
the eyes of scrutiny
to not deviate from 
the path I haven’t
even chosen.

I am who I am and I’m
tired of being someone different
for everyone else
it wears me away fast
and all I am is bones;
e(x)pressionless against
sand.

Bones so lost and broken
no one will even question
where I’ve gone or
why I was never beautiful
or eye-catching
or why I’m bent and
unrecognizable. 

I’m gone and no one
even spares a second
glance. 

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