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243 · May 2016
ME
Ky Po May 2016
ME
Sit,stay. Following through, jumping through hoops tryin’ to fit these social norms. Just to have doors closed. Obedience is all I’m taught. But that’s not what my ancestors fought for. Beat down told not to explore. Thinkin’ that I can’t soar. This world made to capture, enslave hurt my membrane. They can’t keep me down, so they frown. I’m broken, don’t want to be fixed. They think it’s a trick. Ever thought it was just me being me. See, that never occurred. Tryin’ to  preserve their little girl, makes me wanna hurl. Angry all they see is anger. Can’t comprehend that maybe this is for the best. Maybe broken is my token to the top, maybe not. Discovery is needed to bring about recovery. Can’t you see! This is me! I’m broken, outspoken, just needing to be me. “Not acceptable, you need to look presentable.” My baggy jeans and t-shirts provide comfort from the hurt . Inflicted by them. You ask who’s them? They are you, every single one of you. Your society your world makes me want to hurl. Allowing people like myself to walk a mile only to receive half a smile. Climbing, trying to let you see the real me but you can’t let that be. I give up, the fight is over, no longer your right to dictate. Now don’t hesitate to appreciate. This is me!

— The End —