My Socks Don’t Match
Every so often, I wear my favorite mismatched socks.
Every so often, someone tells me how awesome they are.
Sometimes they are hidden like the parts of me that are invisible to the world.
Then, no one says anything.
Even when no one notices . . .
I am me.
All the parts of me.
Visible and invisible.
Similar to my environment.
Matching. . . and NOT.
I know I do not match even when no one sees.
I am not afraid of the me that does not match.
It is my secret power.
It is what makes me ME.
I walk a little taller.
I feel a little braver.
I am breaking some unwritten rule. Some social norm.
Turning the invisible to visible.
My socks don’t match.
I am me.
I stand out.
I push boundaries.
I ask and ask and ask again.
Why do we do what we do?
Sometimes I agree that it’s ok.
Sometimes I wear black socks with black pants.
Sometimes. . . I do not.
Sometimes synchronicity must be broken.
Sometimes sometimes sometimes,
It is more important to stand out than it is to fit in.
282 Days to go.
© Randi Sumner
PS: Happy PRIDE month!!
Note: the photos are mine, this prompt is only for me.