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Don't Judge Me


Every interview ends the same…

What is the next step? I ask.

I’ll call you within the week to let you know. They say.

No, you won’t.

It was never even a possibility

As soon as you saw my appearance you said it was a liability.

Why won’t you just say it to my face?

That my shaved head with its balding space,

Is too gross.

That its the opposite of your scouted eros.

Ignoring these blatant lies,

The bigger injustice is under disguise.

Why are you judging me on my hair?

What’s next will you judge me on my breathed air?
There is more to me than what you see.

More to my personality.

A story behind each scar.

An overflowing reservoir.

Of memories, stories, and lessons.

All together to run my engines.

And it’s not just you

Who sees me in two shades of blue.

The eyes they follow me.

Trying to find the key.

To the things I hold in secrecy.

You question my sanity.

While I question your vanity.

Just let sleeping demons be

Trust me you don’t wanna see.

But even so, I know how to keep my demons confined to me.

So don't worry.

I can still function.

I can still choose when I come to a  junction.

I'm not broken,

Just cracked.

Not stupid,

Just held back.

Judge me once you know.

Once you’ve seen me go blow for blow.

With you’re twisted morality.

Trying to open your eyes to my reality.

 

Why can’t you see?

 

There is more to me,

 

Then what you see.

 

So look beyond.

 

And judge me accordingly

 
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Summer-Shade

I'm a teen who's a little late to the maturity game. I have a condition called trichotillomania- a disorder that involves recurrent, irresistible urges to pull out one's own body hair (source: Mayo Clinic). I love anime, books, writing, art, and poetry.

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