There will come a day when you will no longer haunt me.
Your words will no longer circulate in my head.
I will no longer see your face in strangers on the street,
And the sound of mothers calling their children by your name will no longer cut me adrift.

Yes,
There will come a day when I no longer bewail your loss.
I will not miss you as I do now.
Thoughts of you will no longer burn like the pain of a bee sting,
and your absence will not ache like the phantom pain of an amputee.

Soon enough,
There will come a day when I meet a person,
maybe in the coming months or maybe in a few years,
whose presence will bring butterflies, as yours once did,
and their words will lift me so high that I feel stars on my lashes.

And, on that day,
I will feel whole again.

Growing up, I thought I was special.
I thought I could do anything. Go anywhere. Be anyone.
I thought I was smart. More clever than most.
I thought I was likable, cool, and popular.
I thought I was pretty.

Growing up,
I thought the world of myself,
but as I grew older,
I found that the world didn't think much of me.

I realized I was ordinary,
and there were limits on my abilities.
I realized that I was clumsy, uncoordinated,
and awkward.
I found that I am an average student.
Honestly, I'm really not smart at all.
I became aware of my quirky and weird personality,
and that most people really don't like me.
I understood that I was just one of many
in a great big world, and that
I am insignificant.

Maybe growing up is realizing that you are not that special, after all.

You say that
everything I do is wrong.
                                                  
You tell me that
no one loves me.

You reiterate that
I will end up alone.

You remind me that
I am worthless.

You make me think that
I am not good at anything.

But

You were supposed to be the one to tell me that
I am special.

You were supposed to
love me unconditionally.

That was supposed to be your job,
but you failed.

YOU
**are the failure.

I wish someone would have told me earlier on that it was okay to be this way
I wish someone would have looked me in the eye and told me to be proud
I wish the community around me would have showed me acceptance
I wish my friends would have done the same
If this were the case, maybe I would have felt differently
Maybe I would have turned out differently
But
Instead I suffered
I suffered at home
I suffered at school
I suffered every night
A suffrage so overlooked and unseen
Disguised by feigned smiles and laughter
I suffered in silence
But, I will no longer be silent
I will no longer allow the people around me to tell me who to be
What to do
And who to love
I will speak out
I will speak loud
I will be a voice for those who do not have one

When you are raised by evil,
Evil becomes you.
No matter how hard you fight,
no matter how hard you try to believe otherwise,
you are rooted in evil,
And there is no escape.