Adaptation

June 5, 2016

I thought I could conform,

wanting to become part of the pack.

I dressed differently;

closed my mouth more.

I tried to be less caring yet more selfless

hoping to become more desirable.

It didn't work.

I wore black.

I abstained from interests in favor of theirs.

I slept only with candles for warmth

and bathed in ice water.

I froze.

I laughed at the idiocies protruded from their mouths,

trying to fit in, but stay me.

I was brainwashed.

I ate kosher for a year and a day.

I drank tea to bleach me inside.

I prayed to Mother Earth and Father Sky for strength as the moon waxed

but was weakened when they turned away my heart at witching hour,

and thought I would die from the cold.

I did what I thought was good,

thinking blending wasn't a bad idea.

But still deep inside me is the need to know:

was adapting always like this?

Something wrong with this poem?

Submitted to a slam

“Slam Against Bullying”

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