Fitting myself into my youth

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.


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