Walking Out

Where are you?

I know I have to act a certain way

the good wife, friend, mother,

daughter. I remember when I spoke up

and ran away to forget who I was.
Bleeding is an external vision

all the internal gods are turning away

misdiagnosing me with mental disorders


I am merely showing more of my 49 years

it gets hard to deliver packages

of love when everyone dissects your words






why are you running

Well it’s quite a miracle I am still alive

after all my accidents

why are you not running.

I wish I was better at human contact


I wish I was comfortable in my skin

but I never had three wishes.

My problem is I overestimate people

think we are all the same one love

one tribe

when we are so alienated.

I would rather stay home

write, live in the world

of words

I am too soft .

You can’t convert gays

it can’t be done,

no amount of articles on the internet

can convince me

I see too many rainbows

to understand dogmas.

Some days it is harder to be normal

other days it’s another blank bullet.

I walked out of the restaurant. It wasn’t the first time either.

The last time I did that Greg got me so mad.

Now, my rule is, 

If I’m hurt, I have to look out for myself. I may just be too fragile.

I crack more than others do

I’m made this way.

Sorry, but I can’t be who I was.

I’m not going back.


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