What I Am
I am still alone.
They really don’t know anything.
They say that they understand.
That it’s wonderful.
but then they pass on by
and don’t say a word.
They don’t include me
and if they do
they treat me like I’m not there.
Maybe it’s just me.
Maybe it’s just my paranoia
that was drilled into my mind since I was born.
Or my closed-up-self
that causes this problem
but I will never know.
For I cannot see my own mind
and how I work.
I can’t even tell
what I am anymore.
People say that I’m a *****sapien.
A human like everyone else.
But I know that I’m really a monstrum
despite what they say.
A monster.
What children fear that’s under their bed at night.
What myths of lore tell bring nightmares, disease, and death.
Outcasted and banished.
Shunned and cursed.
Hunted and burned.
Didn’t they ever think
that we couldn’t enter holy ground
because we were afraid?
Because we thought that we wouldn’t be accepted?
I always feel that way, especially around others
making everywhere holy ground.
Mommy and Daddy didn't want me.
They knew I was a monster.
So they gave me away
to Mom and Dad
who locked me up to contain the beast
but only ended up unleashing it
in more fury than ever
and ended up
having me hate myself
for who I am
a monster.
thinking I’m a burden,
which I am,
and outcasted,
which I am.
So just leave me alone
so I can suffer in the silence
and in the shadows
until they swallow me up
and drown me for infinity.
Copyright © Holly Laudenslager | Year Posted 2014
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