Turn And Face The Strange

I’ve spent a lifetime feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. I remember myself, the tiny little sixth grader, Scaling the California Highways in search of a new place called home Somehow ending up in the midst of a state called Oregon A place where the weather embraced change like a gentle, yet familiar kiss Despite the wind and rain raging in an angry fit. The expectations a parent has for their child: Do not cry, suck it up, act like your age, stay strong, be brave… I couldn’t do any of it, because I didn’t feel any of these emotions, I didn’t feel anything With my quiet, desolate mind, I pondered the many questions a young child would and accepted change like a bitter cough syrup; hoping that one day it would finally get me somewhere important Change was not my friend. We were polar opposites, constantly fighting battles like we were brother and sister, Never knowing how much we really needed each other. There will be a day where change and I will walk together; hand in hand, When my skin is old and my bones are fragile, And every grey hair on my head and wrinkle creased deeply into my face Will help me reminisce on the fact that change actually had the guts to get me somewhere, And I will always remember. And I will welcome it with open arms.