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it has seeped into my bones
Next thing you know, I’m becoming the person I always was; trapped inside a vessel not made for me, playing with all my friends hiding inside of me. Everyone stares, questioning whether or not the attraction they feel is from sanctity—whatever their perception, it is all a dream state they lie to themselves within. Lack of control of a subconscious that overtakes their wakefulness, projects their misconstrued reality onto me; isn’t it strange how conformity is a necessity for the weak?
I know what I know because the truth lies within the marrow of my bones, the pain it might radiate is the man I was born as calling out in wretched terror. Can you imagine the confusion of a child who doesn’t understand why he is being treated like a little girl? Have you been that little boy getting the knots in his hair chopped out? Was your behavior relentlessly modified with piercing words to be alien to your raw humanity? Am I not alone in the world after all?