🪷 You can march right out. I'll keep dancing in my hollow.
a poem to someone who has a problem with my authenticity these days
Look, I love my life
and the person I’m becoming—
so if you don’t like
my not marching to the drumming
of the beat you shout
and still strain yourself to follow,
you can march right out.
I’ll keep dancing in my hollow.
In the notebook
