Pop Filter

I must be too blunt

I need to be filtered

And softened

To be made suitable

For civilised company

And everyone else's liking

My voice is too loud

My colours, too bold

My persona, too fierce

I'm told to tone it down

Quiet down

Dumb myself down

All for the comfort

Of everyone else

They all love

My personality

So vibrant and fun

And colourful

I'm that friend

Everyone wants in their circle

Full of laughter

And sarcasm

And dirty jokes

But only a little bit

Not too much

They gauge me

Size me down

To meet their preferences

They squeeze me into a tiny box

They run me through a filter

Shrink my personality down

Into a little pill they can swallow

Just so they can handle me

I'm like whiskey

Sharp and dark

And flavourful

But watered down

For happy hour

By those too weak

To enjoy me

At my fullest strength

My voice is deep and rich

They run it through Garage Band

Until I sound like a damn squirrel

Because that's what

Quote

People like

I'm told to be myself

Yet I must somehow

Also

Be just like everyone else, too

This backwards conundrum

Confuses me

And when I reject it

Altogether

I'm seen as crazy

Eccentric, perhaps

A weirdo

Or a creep

All because I refuse

To be sifted

Through a pop filter

But all I can say is

Sorry

Not sorry