One of my friends was talking about how the younger her thought she would grow up differently then she did and that the younger her would be afraid of her. after a little while of thinking about it this is what i said;
I think about this sometimes but you know what I realize, I still am that little girl. and sometimes I do scare myself. but I'm so glad I didn't turn out the way i always wanted to be because I realize that girl wouldn't be me. And if I could go back in time and talk to myself I think the little me would be ok with who we turned out to be. I'm not all good but I'm not all bad, And that's the perfect me...
Because every little thing in my life reminds me of you. Everything. I see you in the books I read. And the songs I listen to. In the movies I watch. Every thought that goes through my head leads back to you. And I can’t help but think that you are the answer to my problems and the end to the pain. But thinking like this is a dangerous trap. Thinking like this gets me hurt. And I don’t think I can take any more hurt. Liking someone like you makes me realize that I will never be good enough. I will never be right and you will always deserve better. I know I can’t be that for you and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m just a messed up, talentless, ADHD teenager who has no control over my feelings or words. I’m sorry that I’m not all you want, because that is all I want to be. But I know there’s no point because you’ll leave me anyway. Everyone does. Everyone just walks away with no goodbye. I am always the second choice, the back-up plan, the alternative until you find someone better. And I’m just tired you know? I’m tired of trying to put up with all this shit and telling myself that there are only 3 more years till I can leave this fucking state and leave all the pain behind. But a lot can happen in 3 years. And over any other emotion, I’m just scared and lonely in this nightmare that I call life.
If I let myself melt, even just a little
I seep right through the cracks
Some fools are born, conditioned by fate,
And they, like all, still procreate.
All useful knowledge flees their minds,
As selfish life fulfills these swines.
And while they swing and cheat for joys,
The watchful eyes of their little boys
Do take a look at what they see,
And what they see is “A bigger me.”
Their little girls, in company of dolls,
On occasion, foresee what befalls
Upon them, too, as they soon explore,
An impending battle of love and war.
But then, there exists that little kid,
Whose sex and gender shall remain amid
A cloud of irrelevance and mystery:
Their wisdom calls most urgently.
As this kid sees a life unravel
Along Lacanian stages of travel,
Concerned are they with the fuss and mess,
Which most adults do not confess
To what they cause and what they bring,
Most taken in by their offspring;
And as one parent lacks all the care,
The other lives a life unfair.
In times of chaos and audacious cuss,
Dear vengeful killer, Oedipus,
Consumes all facets of the mind
Of the little kid who must confine
All pain, and hatred, and all rage,
Enough to place one in a cage,
And leave one there to squirm and rot,
Like a lobster boiling in a pot,
And free the bird whose wings to fly
Have been broken off, now left to die,
In part, by diabolical norms
That invade a home in all shapes and forms.
But, the kid looks up at the two,
Then whispers quietly, “I’m neither of you;
Not the blinded one, who feels must reign;
Nor the obliged one, too tied to pain."
Nor does the kid ever dare to be
A product passed politically:
Ingrained in mind, in heart, and soul
A subordinate being in a bowl,
That turns, and turns, and turns, and turns
While greedy capitalists more they yearn.
Within this cycle is little choice,
Hetero-normatively sans a screaming voice,
For a true language for some not made;
Virile chest-pounds place a shade
Upon the stronger ones deprived
Appraisal for their stronger minds.
The kid, all this, can’t take to be,
As what they see they wish not to see.
In this unbalanced Yin and Yang,
The kid’s perception hits a bang:
“The power lies within the one
Who mostly governs with a gun;
And how can a human hurt their double,
When love and passion are lesser trouble?"
A fitting sex the kid can't choose,
As in every win, each sex does lose.
But slowly, as they come to be,
The kid, society directs to see,
That to just one sex they must belong,
As 'genitalia proves feelings wrong.'
This funny theory most credits Freud.
By collective viewpoints the kid’s annoyed:
'No good is said, no good is done',
For those who are all, but yet are none.
Great gender points makes Butler de Judith,
While her female likes are out to proveth
That she is wrong within her stance
‘Only female unity will give rise to chance'
To an inclusion of the female word,
And one that’s First, not Second or Third.
The opposite, still out to bend
The rules and laws, all to pretend
That the other sex does not exist
Because swollen egos must persist
In rule, in art, in build, and biz:
'Fields where opposites lack all wiz.'
The kid, in this silly world of theirs,
Looks at all the foolish heirs
Who bounce and shoot this gendered ball,
While the kid stands back and laughs at all.
You had your life figured out,
Just barely 12.
Are white lies
When they lead to
And thats exactly where you went.
Tossed into the darkness,
Thrown roughly by cold hands.
You tried to box up the little things.
Fold them neatly into squares,
Push them aside.
Too many squared troubles.
The squares led to boxes, boxes to crates.
Finally so many that you
Shoved them into the dark,
Slamming the door and leaning tight against it
To prevent the monsters inside from escaping.
And the piles and piles of unsolved misfourtune
With that tiny silver earing and
A little white lie
Turned to darkness,
And you were thrown in with your piles,
Left to rot alone
Nobody to hear your cries now.
She was wise at
Five feet and seven inches
With a voice that could
Shake the barracks
Of a ship
When anger harvested her
As a lamb
With the soft creases
Of her hands
She said happiness
Is gargantuan but also
You can fit it in the palm
Give it away
But still it will be yours
Never let somebody else
—Especially not a
Hold your contentment
In their hot
Heavy word, black.
One that comes with an even heavier history.
A tender burden for the Wildean child,
especially one who had little hope, and little help.
they told you you were drizzle, so you became a storm.
Too loquacious for your identity,
you more than exceeded all bounds.
But they were never really prepared for you, were they?
When we're little, we believe the place to go is up, up, and away
We get a little older, and we want to know what's down there
In the deep
The beauties, or the beasts?
One day we'll be adults
Too tired to try and fly
We'll just climb
Working to the best of our abilities for a good reputation
Polishing our shoes, straightening our ties
And one day, it's all gone
You wonder how it all could have happened so fast
Well, at some point, you turned around
And started rolling downhill
Then you realize
The best thing about all this is that the ride down never ends
It's as infinite as space
You see that everything can always be worst
You can always fall a little deeper
Which is why even the ones everyone call "freaks", are beautiful
But this hill has nothing to do with actions
It's why the famed have a spotlight
They're in too deep
Deep in greed they count their cash
Only to waste it on yet another mask
This is why I can't admire the rich
Their power comes from what the masks of deception bring them
They try to drag down those of us free from their evil gravity
But we don't give in
Hell, we win
We don't just barely make it out with bruises and black eyes
We dance away with grace
To the top of the hill
We don't dance to escape the monstrous underworld
We dance to stick it to those that made us believe the surface wasn't beautiful
En homme, I feel at home.
En femme, I’m still him.
That is, me.
I was mommy’s little princess, and daddy’s little prince.
I just didn’t know there was a word for it:
Him today, her tomorrow.
Help me open my heart.
I know what to wish for
All this time later.
You are cold and clear
And the haze is gone
And I want
To fall into this love
Without fear lurking below me like a safety net of needles.
Please, help me give up that instinct
To turn to stone at the first sign of trouble.
Help me relinquish my misgivings and my doubts
That I clutch like weapons against the calm and joy I feel
In her arms,
Because we both know that if the end is coming
It will come whether or not I see it miles off.
Blind me with light.
Let me see this moment,
Let me see what I have
And not what I could lose.
Help me unzip my skin and lay in the moonlight
Bare and honest
Exposed down to the weakest little corner of my soul.
Help me find the courage to believe the best of this world
With its barbed wire edges,
If I give my heart to these cold stars
And set aside the fear and doubt
If I show you courage
Will you show me comfort?