I am....

Thu, 09/03/2015 - 16:37 -- catejo

We are different yet the same.

Society demands we fit in, conform to their ways,

But we are screamed at to be different, the right kind of different.

 

Don’t be a freak,

Don’t be too smart

Don’t stand out, unless you are a star athlete

 

No one word can describe anyone,

As humans we are a collage of events mashed together in our DNA and memories.

We are a mixture of pain and joy and secrets we guard with our lives.

We are puzzles and mazes that not even we know how to solve.

 

I learned at a young age how to defend myself.

Physically, mentally it made no difference, pain was pain,

Pain is pain.

 

I grew up knowing that they only way to get out;

The only way to escape was to run, I ran into the wonderful arms of education,

I was safe in the pages of a book and the ink of a pen,

A safety I fought so hard for.

 

Eventually I became the monster that terrorized my every thought,

My head was filled with dancing demons who rejoiced at every stuttered, sobbing breath.

I once again ran to the arms of comfort; the arms of learning.

Secrets make us who we are, secret battles that we hide behind smiles and the words “I’m just tired”

Everyone has dark moments, wars that we fight in the dark of night.

No one is as perfect or ok as they seem.

 

 

Everyone has different stories that made them who they are,

Yet we all have similar structure.

Pain opened our eyes and joy clouded them,

We escaped some kind of hell using blood, sweat and tears.

We are strong yet weak, alive yet dead,

We are human. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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