Becoming

When I was young

I didn’t know why people did drugs

When I was young

I didn’t know why people said

Fuck love.

After all it is just a construct.

I poured my heart, my soul

Into others

I’d give the shirt off my back

Treat them like family, a brother

Now that I’m older

I question

What really is a brother

Sister, father, mother?

What really is a friend

That you love so much

But can’t stick around till the end

Do they just pretend?

Are they even real

Can they see the agony

The pain that I feel?

I felt theirs… oh God I felt theirs

Like I was their own body

Skin neck and hair

But this was something I was taught.

When I was young

I couldn’t just “be myself”

Or really have fun

One look at my life

Then and now

And you wouldn’t think

That I was hiding underneath

That thick gummed smile

That I portrayed as sweet

The demon comes out

The deeper you seek.

That girl you thought you liked

The one who gives off so much light

Is dark inside.

I was taught to hide

When I was young.

What happens in the house

Stays in the house

Your feelings are inadequate

You can never announce

You are always wrong

They are always right

What you thought you saw heard and felt

Was swept under the rug last night.

So don’t talk about your feelings!

So I run to someone else

Dropping words like a bomb on a shelf

“I hear you… I feel you… just be yourself”

But who are you? He? She? Me?

Who am I, I must plead.

I try to speak

But I feel weak

Bed ridden from social anxiety

The laughing stock at the party

The black sheep

Who am I? Who is she? Who is me?

I am one thing…

Becoming.