The Poison

It’s difficult to exist 

in a world of full-bloodied

made in such a way,

as if to reflect one another.

Whilst you stand there, alone.

You’re not like them, that’s what they say

and yet

you don’t know what is different - you certainly don’t feel like so.

Is it the label? The one you have on your bottle

making almost everyone look at you with disdain

like poison among expensive wines.

And you shouldn’t be treated as such,

you know it.

And yet...and yet still 

you can’t help but feel like it

A poison.

One that will render sick whoever comes in contact with it

one that will lead millions to an inevitable death.

A bottle than no one chooses, 

everyone’s gaze turns away from you

as if the mere sight will mix their contents with yours

because who are you, aside from a means of destruction, really? 

You can’t see yourself as anything different

some nights are more difficult than others.

You hate yourself.

You hate the way you look and what you consist of 

you hate the way you affect others and most importantly

you hate what you are.

Because you feel like a means of harm,one that will lead the world to ruin. 

Sometimes you wish you were like them

transparent and soft, flexible liquid.

Ever-so changing, always managing to tick off all the criteria

of how you should be.  

So there’s a constant war raging in your head

one between must and need 

obligations and desires

and you can’t help but feel perplexed. 

“What would be better?” 

Deep in your heart you know.

It hurts but you do.

Because the better for you isn’t necessarily the easiest 

because sometimes in order to be happy we have to fight 

and that’s unfair.

You know it is, and yet “that’s just how the world is” 

a phrase that’s been ingrained in your head ever since you were a kid

they kept saying it again and again until it almost lost its meaning.

Because you stopped believing it.

Because if they wanted they would, 

and they should

and they will, eventually, or so you’d like to think.

And if they don’t themselves, you’ll fight 

harder, fiercer

until you let them know that we are still here

and that we will always be, just as we always were.

Because it’s not you, it’s we, you’re not alone in there

It’s hard but worth it, and in the darkest days

you’ll always have a family to rely on.