Diminished Root

I should feel inspired to be something
new
different
unique
after reading Langston Hughes
but I’m not.
i’m still here
in this same old rut
singing the same old song
that i’ve been singing
forever
yesterday
and tomorrow.
maybe
just maybe
it’s because i’m not really Me
today
or yesterday
or any of the days
since
I decided to go to college.

i’m not Me anymore,
i’m them
and what they idealize
want me to be
reduced
watered down
no spice no flavor no
Me.

why is Me
too much
and not enough
not right/not good/not what we’re looking for
is someone who fits the mold and You aren’t it.

words like knives
cut Me down to a more manageable me
fit nice and tiny there next to the dotted line
sign
your name and your
soul
to a group of some nobodies who are somebodies because they say
so cater to their egos

be
small.
achieve great things but don’t aspire to
greatness breaking the mold isn’t
good allowed acceptable politically correct

don’t write that you love
God debate politics babies morals
write that you love everyone everything
that they find pleasant and uncomplicated

don’t say you want to
travel teach the world change lives serve God
doesn’t belong in a scholarship essay don’t
interview with a cross around your neck be
unoffensive tolerant but informed of
what interests them and not

You aren’t important anymore you is
be you and not You and fit their mold
so nice snug confining restraining smothering suffocating in their standards

who is I where is Me
I lost Me long ago, and I followed
and now all that’s left is an i and a
meager attempt at freedom
eager attempt at success
plea for redemption of my sold-out soul
let Me return, and I as well.

I am too big for the confines of their expectations,
Me is too much for their infantile taste buds
too much spice zest zing power intensity
life.
I offend them,
so for them, i am.