People pretend
to be okay,
or sad,
or normal.
To hide.
I see
truths
that might
be best left unsaid.
Colors tell me.
They are
encasing,
caressing the vessels
of souls.
Auras.
The energy that is
an open book
allows me
to read them.
Reality becomes
my sanctuary.
But I am
the only one there.
People pretend
to be okay,
or sad,
or normal.
To hide.
I see
truths
that might just
destroy them
in the end.

Hate.
A strong word,
Used by many
To hurt
To Harm
To maim
The feelings of others.
I might hate you,
But
This is not
A hate poem.
But
This is not
A love poem, either.
And
I still don't like you.
Your words,
Meant to
Make me
Feel loved
Or
Maybe hot,
Disgust me.
You may want me,
But
I don't
Feel wanted.
I feel
Violated
Instead.

I am empty.
The void inside
Fills to the brim,
Overflows with things
I have lost.
My rationality.

These words tell my story.
The one I cant tell.
The colors I see,
Auras.
The beings I see,
Shadows.

Not one person
Feels the same.
I am proof.
Fear, Sadness,
The longing
To be normal.

Leave me be,
Or I will go
Insane.
Constant distraction.
Falling apart.
Drifting away.

Slowly.
Gently.
Slipping
Into the darkness
That consumes my mind.
Fighting for one last breath.

How do I fight myself?

Drip, Drip, Drop!
The tears come running,
Splashing to the floor.
The blank page dotted,
The ink running away
From the letters I try to deliver.
I need to say why
I choose to leave.
Because of this,
The tears come running.

I want my life to be:

Like it is in the movies.
A place where there is no sorrow.
A place where,
After the screen goes blank,
No one sees you again.
You disappear.
Die.

Or like it is in TV shows.
A place where you only live for short periods of time,
Then you disappear and reappear the next week.
If you are in an anime,
You live in a surreal wonderland.
2D, Pretty,   Happy.
Until it ends and you are forgotten.

Or like it is in books.
The romantic ones
Or ones with a happy ending.
Every detail describing your life
So everyone knows.
Then,
As the reader turns the last page,
Snaps the book shut,
It all ends.
They move on and don't think twice about you.
Finally.
Peace.
Dead in the minds of others.
And, maybe someday,
In your own.

I am not normal.
It's as simple as that.
I like both girls and boys,
I enjoy classic literature as well as others.

I am simply not normal.
It's as true as the smile that this poem brings to both me and the reader.
I am mismatched,
I wear mo-hawks to school and buzz my hair off.

I am strange.
As easy as ABC.
I take pride in my differences,
And I respect others who are like me as well.

We are all strange.
We are all not normal.


It's as simple as that.

The voices of my peers echo
As either a comedy or a drama is spoken.
Tears of the audience
Either come from laughter or sadness,
Emotions felt be the stories told
By my peers on stage.

Tales of soldiers or ******,
Talking animals or mad hatters,
Different tones being used
For each character's profile.
The difficulty of keeping a straight face
When acting as though you suffer
From Multiple Personality Disorder.

As the tale concludes,
Clapping and whistles erupt
From the audience.
The judges take their notes,
Scribbling their views on the show.

The suspense of waiting
For the scoreboard to claim
The first place Speaker.
Poetic,
Dramatic,
Comedic
Representations of stories,
Are difficult to judge.
But, of course,
The best will rise
And claim the satisfaction
Of applause by the viewers.

The only thing left
To do now, is
Wait for the next competition,
Next Saturday.