Fond of your identity

Is there a well collected image of yourself?
One that flickers in the mind whenever you say "me"
Is there a body that's really felt?
A mind that has been inverted and positioned at all angles

For the many layers of the you must have been active to really live
Those chunks of your innerness that were never recognized
huddle in hidden places pushed down by the acquisition of a phony identity
Wanting to be like the others at the expense of yourself

But I'm here lost coin of this false currency
to tell you your value isn't in the engravings that you made
to fit into a quarter chain
It's in the rough cuts and bumps that a real person receives, risking themselves
with an identity they are fond of.

You are not their noise or hush lost soul!
You are not their jeers or spoils!
Wake from your disgusting conformity
Your unwillingness to question self awareness
... Or sleep in what society has bullied and shaped you into being
For your identity is your curse or blessing