Silently - March 22, 2013

 

I am a new aquaintance that is yet to make a sound.

Yet to be understood, I show no feelings aloud.

When I depart from the public, go home to flee,

I feel the need to tease, to please my sanity.

Silently, I cry. Silently, I die. Silently, I try

to overcome my insanity; bridge over the pain in me.

 

You make me feel like an outcast just because I'm not like you.

Should I be like who? I'm sick of your complaining,

you're straining me, draining me of energy. Listen to me, please.

It's not you, it's me! My plea for individuality is wrong;

too long do I have to wait for acceptance; you'll never repent this.

Take my fist and bury it under the sand; my will in your hands.

I'm powerless against conformity. I'm just a deformity

on this tumor you call me. Free me of this disease,

I'm fucking begging, on me knees. Please, please,

make me who you want me to be. Tell me, please, what you want to see.

I don't care if it's not me. Make a new me. One you want to see.

Make me what you want to see.

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nightlight1220's picture

This is really very good. I

This is really very good. I liked reading it.


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "