When they tell you college is different, that it is the best time of your life- When you are screaming, laughing and breaking ever rule you had as a child, when the world looks on in envy because they are too old, or too young to be who you are- they don’t tell you that you are slowly losing yourself.
Every bit of you, built up so painstakingly is unwinding, a spool of thread that is tangled with everyone else- you gain your freedom, yet
you lose your identity, become a part of a cohesion of breathing, pulsing animistic tendencies they call the fabled youth.
I was bottomless, topless while they screamed ‘off with her head’ I shunned and was shunned with the unique undiluted prejudice of the different.
I am scanned and registered into a system of disuse where my third arm is a handicap and my brain waltzes for the lack of its need, the ideas they ask of it cannot even conceive, the morality that is so far from ideal.
I am a confluence of mimicry,
Made up of a hundred different people
Slices of their soul gathered and duct-taped together
My fingers moving in habit like hers,
The letters drawling in tired syllables as if
I am him
And her and an accumulation of the people
Who have poured themselves inside me
I am made up, a patchwork quilt that
Is fraying at the edges.
All I feel is the endless waves of exhaustion at
A fight this world wishes I win
And lose then, I will have conformed,
With the simplicity of their refusal of tolerance.
I do not feel anger at your misogyny,
I am a child of prejudice weeping on typed
Symbols for defeat is knocking about in
My skeleton pretending to be a person.