A Poem and art

the inner gooey parts of me
demanded to be seen
asked to be heard
begged to be loved
and I tried
oh. how. I. tried.
to force the gooiest parts of me into submission
to conform...
not for my own well being
but for the perceived comfort of another

when I finally stopped trying to shape her,
these pieces I tried to hide
burst forth in a rush of rich, gooey, delight...

chanting: I am not for everyone