i used to love this world

i thought strangers were my friends

and that everyone believed in God.

i held tightly to trust of family

within my small, learning heart.

where tears fell,

i found always a hand to hold;

but today, i stand

alone.

​

when i turned 11,

i learned that i was not important.

taught first hand

by peers and friends,

relatives, strangers: 

not feminine enough to be idealized,

though never male enough to belong.

​

and i wish someone would have taught me

how to believe in my sunlit dreams,

because it storms still,

even while i sleep.

and i dont remember

how to hope for sun

because i haven't touched her light

in years.

​

i still believe in God,

though i know now

that many people do not.

and so it seems

i might always be afraid

when a stranger passes me by,

and i am all alone.

​

nevertheless, i search for shelter

from this ceaseless turbulence

in every place i go,

as if i've been homeless for a while now,

and perhaps i have been.

maybe she, the one i was then,

should have never loved this hardened world.

​

but i stared at my face

in the mirror last week,

seeing ever slight star light

where i once

counted scars; and i wondered

what it might be

to feel like myself again.

to unlearn and refuse

past devils and violence;

i will grasp hands again

with my true heart,

the one which i knew

long ago.