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Jun 2016
I remember a time when I felt happy
Waking up everyday was a new adventure
Some people would say things behind my back,
But I didn't care

I just carried on

I would stroll leisurely into the classroom,
Take off my shoes at the door because I picked at them
Sit down at my desk, right at the front because I couldn't focus sitting next to anyone

And just carried on

I would pick my spiky, plastic ball off of the desk I sat at,
Constantly fidget with it, resist the urge to place it in my mouth
And bite off the spikes, feel satisfaction. Sometimes I could resist.
Other times I couldn't, but I didn't care

I just carried on

That was back when I was in Year Four, in a class filled with students
Who, despite not knowing the word ***** would be one anyways
Only admiring me for my intellect, like when I suggested the word Bioluminescence as a favourite word and the teacher thought it wasn't even a word, because surely I was too young to know it?

Somehow, I carried on

Now, looking back on those days I ask myself,
When did my strength fade? The world become grey?
How can someone so innocent, so lonely, so... weak,
Be so strong and resistant?

How did I be me, and manage to carry on?

When nowadays I am constantly suppressed by society,
I can't be me without being called a ******, a loser,
Loner and so ****** up that surely I'm a stoner?

Doesn't matter that I hate drugs, my "friends" do drugs,
Smoke **** and make fun of me because I don't,
That God forbid I'm clean, don't **** with that ****,
Never will and never have, but this means that they can be mean?

How have I carried on, for so long, falling prey to those call me friend
And fade away faster than the light of day whilst vaping it up,
Faded as ****,
When all along I believed I wasn't strong?

I look at them and see no hope, no future
Not for me in that direction, at least
And I've told them time and again
That it's so ******* wrong, that there will come a time when hitting up the **** won't carry you further along anymore

There will be a time when they will fail to carry on

Maybe I still got some of me left in me
There's more on the inside than what the eye can see
Believe in myself, listen to no-one else and honestly?

I truly believe I still have the strength to carry on
Bit of slam poetry for you there, my first attempt
Viseract
Written by
Viseract  23/Trans Female/Adelaide
(23/Trans Female/Adelaide)   
994
   Glass
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