Bare

Sometimes I wish the world would see me bare. Like winter trees. You would see right straight through my skin and bones to the core of all I hold dear. I would stand there with my feet like roots, unaffected by judgement. A tree is perfect you see, based on its aspiration to seek the sunlight with its branches extending towards the sky. I wish you all could see me bare as the winter trees. You would see all I aim for is light. I would hold on to where I stand while the winds rock my body,but I will steadily with my branches find the light.