poem

i feel it fester inside me; it grows and morphs into something uncomfortable. "I cant control how I am" is drowned in the sea of laughter and taunts 

I used to think me being "weird" was something superficial; something I can grow out of, but instead in grew into.

my body is aging rapidly still as my mind stays young and naive. 

a glimer of maturity is all people ask for. is all people expect, so to give what they want i hide who i am, and just pray and hope; the mask i ever so carefully nail under my skin, lips and eyes will stay put and not slip away is slowly diminish by the tears that'll soon disolve it.