the gentrification of my emotional self has come to an end.
It ends when the realisation that I too, the self they came so save, have been left destitute and displaced by beings who wield maturity like warriors in battle, deftly and with skill inherited from a bloodline of emotional
privilege sureness superiority.
This obvious operation will now come to an end, because the boy you so carelessly moulded into a distorted version of obedience has broken and is baring the wounds you carved into his skin for the world to witness.
I and he will no longer cater to your desires. We will no longer look to your aspirations. You are not the beacon here.
The light arrives in the night, when the wall has fallen, when the shackles have been broken, when votes have been cast, when the flag has been raised.
The light has arrived, the regalia donned and the salute offered because I am here to stay and I am proud of who I am.