Oz

I was a Scarecrow.
Stupid and unthinking. Spineless. Acting on impulse instead of logic. Following any which way I was told because I cared more about getting somewhere, anywhere, than paying attention to the road at my feet. Believing you when you said you’d make my wish come true.

I became a Tin Man.
Cold. Heartless. Unwavering. Cemented in a tomb of my own making. One where I was safe, but alone. Solid, but stuck. Hating everything you were, and everything you made me into. Wanting nothing more than to sip from an oil can and make it so I can smile again.

I am a Cowardly Lion.
Confident on the outside, broken on the in. Exuding this facade of regality, but knowing I’m a sheep in a lion’s coat, hoping no one would notice. Wanting so bad to return to my flock and fit in, but aware enough to know I’ll just scare them off. Scaring even myself when I catch a glimpse of my reflection.

I want to be a Wizard.
Wonderful. Magical. The kind people celebrate and sing songs about. Whose greatest trick was to just be so incredibly human. Flawed, but accept it. Frightened, but own it. Helping those that need it, and even those who don’t. But what I really want most of all, is the power to bring myself back home. And wake up.