inner peace

flashback of adolescence

something written on one of those terrible nights of being a lost teenager:

Lightly dired eyes still stinging with the remnants
--aftermath of the confrontation.
A revelation, a sudden surge of sorro,
deepy stabbed the perplexed mind.
A mind too young, too irrational, too tender
to finght its cause and crusade for its belief.

I am mute always mute
Vigilant as a listener but
Vulnerable as a voice.
A voice that yearns to be heard,
to be comforted, and to be understood.
Yet the voice allows herself to be submerged,
overwhelemd, overshadowed, underestimated
time after time...
retreating further and further inside
into a hiding place,
constant, deliberate stabbings.

Who am I?
The coward, the queer, the victim
The one that is different
Longs for the luxury of average,
normal, generic, thus beautiful, thus loved.
The evil crusade honoring the
patriotic, attractice flag poles, hangers, but not
THE OUTCASE..the QUEERNESS in being
Bigger,rounder, plumper.

No you can't, it is not allowed.
The eyes of the public's worshippers guard
The holy sacrament of fashion, anorexia, and so-called beauty.
Condemns the sinful that dare to break the rules.
Admire the saintly few that lives closely by the standard.

Crusade ends, all so-called outcas now ostracized
leaves the worshipper...
HAPPY?
Un-, it is then, only then when an accomplishment as such
arrives...
blind followers lost, crusaders no where in sight...
all slipped through the thin air.
An honorable crusader from the other side...
claims the minds and occupied the hearts..
and off we go..the blindness of people,
the directionless people.

posted by Y @ 4/23/2006 06:45:00 PM