To Be Different
I remember the first time someone called me...different.
I was young and oblivious.
It was a slap in the face.
I remember my mouth was left hanging like an unhinged door.
The girl that said it walked away nonchalantly.
There was pain in my chest.
I realized a seed had been planted.
My entire life I tried to rid of that seed.
I attacked it with weed killers.
I severely pruned leaves to the point
That even I could not recognize that there was a plant within me.
I tried anything to separate myself
From the thing that made me feel...different.
I shut myself into the darkest of spaces,
Where I knew light could not penetrate.
But to my surprise, the plant fought back.
It found a way to survive and even...grow.
I always thought it was a weed
But it is blooming now.