Weird

Weird

“Weird!”

I still recall the first time I heard that word,

how absurd it sounded from the lips of a bully.

I had been dancing in circles on the playground,

Giggling to my imaginary friends.

I thought that this was how people played,

With their mind out of their body,

lost in a fictitious world

of blurred colors and swirling giggles.

I didn’t know there was another way to live.

I thought that everyone chased cats in Wonderland

or jumped through clouds in Neverland

in their free time.

That was the first time I realized that I was different.

“Weird!”

became a chant that chased me down corridors,

Smeared on the walls like black paint.

I tried to shrug off weird,

To ignore my imaginary friends until they disappeared,

To adhere to the rules of a world I did not understand.

‘Normal’ became a word that haunted my dreams.

‘Normal’ became my formal goal.

‘Normal’ became the Holy Grail.

“Weird!”

was the girl I tried to erase,

the one that chased her nonexistent tail,

and believed that Peter Pan might one day come tapping at her window.

“Weird!”

was the person I did not want to be,

the person who was too individual,

who had to make up friends in her head

to hide from the monsters under her bed.

“Weird!”

was repugnant,

an idea to pass judgment on,

a misshapen, disgusting girl with limbs that tried to pull me back to her.

I ran away from

“Weird!”

for so long.

I ran until my feet were chapped and raw,

My legs sentient from my body,

With a penchant for getting stuck in mud.

I ran until I came to a mirror one day

and I no longer recognized myself.

I looked like an empty slate,

a space waiting for others to draw on me.

I looked vacant,

a vapid image reflected dully.

I looked normal.

That was when I realized what

“Weird!”

really meant.

“Weird!”

was spinning in circles until I fell giggling.

“Weird!”

was my fingers dusted with pen ink from writing my own worlds.

“Weird!”

was my secret language,

and the elves I shared it with.

“Weird!”

was my innocence,

the days before I knew what it meant to care,

the days when I knew my mind and felt alive,

didn’t have to strive to become someone others would approve of.

“Weird!”

was me.

And I liked

“Weird!”

a whole lot better than 'Normal'.

Now

“Weird!”

sleeps with me each night,

curled up against my side and making me feel warm.

Now

“Weird!”

kisses me under the light of the moon

and makes me dance like nobody's watching.

“Weird!”

makes me fresh baked cookies

and lets me eat them with no shame.

“Weird!”

is to blame for my happiness.

“Weird!”

is me.

And I love

“Weird!”

Now

all I need is

"Weird!"