394. My Greatest Sin

I wish that I had been born,

With just the right type of skin.

I wish I knew how to make it work,

When I just don’t fit in.

I try so hard to look like them,

And duplicate their ways;

Yet no matter how hard I try,

I feel so unseen in their gaze.

I wish I had a way to make,

Things work out in the end.

To make my form a better fit,

And no longer have to pretend;

But I fear my fate is as set,

As the very skin I reside.

Born too thin to weather on,

Or remain long by your side.

I blame myself for everything.

For being born unfit.

For being a burden to everyone,

And being too selfish to quit.

For wanting what I know is wrong;

Wanting what can not be.

I know I am a fool to wish,

For what will never be.

I’ve always wanted to be the one,

Who helps you live your dreams.

I hope one day you’ll forgive me,

When my skin rips at the seams.

Thank you for holding me so close.

For loving me anyway,

And maybe if I pray enough,

I can come back to you someday…

In another life. Another time.

Born the same as you,

With thicker skin and thicker blood,

And we’ll live our dreams, me and you.

I wish I had been born,

With the same type of skin.

I wish I knew how to live for you,

When I just don’t fit in.

In a life where I’m your burden,

And you’re my greatest sin.

K. Aldaya, 5/15/17

Picture: Posted by Southern Sweetie on Bloglovin.com; https://www.bloglovin.com/blogs/southern-sweetie-4084552/photo-1609929381

368. Alien

I know I’m not the only one who stares out at the stars,

And wishes their alien kin would come and take them off to Venus or Mars;

Or some unknown world beyond our scope of understanding,

Where their heart exhales and gravitates-in for a landing.

A planet so very far away in space and time,

Where long ago they were accepted and life was sublime.

A world where they were understood and didn’t feel like a freak;

Among their kind where they never needed words to speak.

Maybe the water is neon pink and the dirt a vibrant green,

And trees in every shade of light, glow and illume the scene.

No matter what the eyes see or how beautiful it may seem,

The world now only exists in their minds as they dream.

I know I’m not the only one who stares out into space,

And wonders why they don’t feel like they belong to the human race.

K. Aldaya, 9/19/16

Picture: By Anna Ristuccia on Flickr. https://www.flickr.com/photos/annaristuccia/4391530854/; http://weheartit.com/entry/group/534427

272. Societal Denial

“I want to live”, I said,

To the stranger beside me.

“So, we can go together”, she said.

I nodded, to agree.

“Yes, here we are already dead”.

We drove until the cops appeared;

In many places eyeing us.

We knew when they appeared,

They were onto us;

So I quickly down-geared.

The only way is past this place,

To the other side it goes.

Through the rooms of this place.

Can we escape? Who knows?

But there’s no choice. We race!

We ducked into an empty room,

With a small window at the end.

Hanging there—feelings of gloom,

In forms of guns to portend,

Would soon lead us to our doom.

We continued on and finally found,

The room of our escape.

We ran and I jumped out and found,

Myself alone in the escape.

My friend could not be found.

It was too late to turn back.

I had to make a break for it.

A cop was there and would attack.

Ran,…but with no hope soon quit,

To protect from the coming smack.

Curled on the ground I waited,

Shaking for fear of humankind.

A sentence won’t be abated,

For reasons held in my mind.

I knew, if caught, I would be hated.

I would be hurt for leaving;

For trying to live and escape fate.

I knew I would be receiving,

More abuse for running from fate.

I waited in dust for the grieving.

When there again, I saw my friend,

And she walked up to me, and I….

I stood and she stepped-in to lend,

Her anger, and voice, to try,….

To get the cop to comprehend.

“You do not understand”, I yelled.

“I have to get away from here”.

“If I am to live just once”, I yelled,

“I have to fight against my fear”.

“Hiding is its’ own hell!”

“Hiding from the truths that are,

Has kept me safe for awhile,

But one can’t hide: not close or far,

From the life-long mile;

Without a life-long scar.”

The cop listened and then of course,

He did his duty and tackled me.

My hands cuffed behind with force.

I’d found more misery,

By running off the course.

The course, for me, the world set.

And there are rules in this place,

Which one cannot change or forget;

Or be labelled ‘criminal’ or ‘basket-case’,

With a lifetime of shame and regret.

But the cops are just doing their work,

And the masses just shuffling along;

And the lost longingly lurk,

In the shadows just drifting along.

No salvation. Always the jerk.

Plaguing the system with a wailing, sad-song.

Cop: “If you had just stayed hidden,

We could have all gotten along.”

K. Aldaya 6/9/14

Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://dark.pozadia.org/images/wallpapers/34-Gothic-1280×1024-81205.jpeg

242. My Own Little World

Sometimes I can’t live here anymore.

I have to feel something.

In this world I can’t be weak.

I cannot show my wounded core.

I cannot be a freak.

And so sometimes I have to fly,

Into fantasies and plots,

Constructed from favorite movie scenes;

A main character am I,

On which the conflict leans.

I am strange and am a freak,

And for that reason I am hurt;

But I am important to the play.

There I am saved though weak.

There a freak can save the day!

So I am hurt by the villains,

And then rescued by the heroes.

The heroes understand my pain,

And thus seek revenge on the villains.

The villains mustn’t cause further pain!

I will help since I am a freak.

In movies the freaks are special;

And with my powers and strength,

I do not have to think twice.

I save the day with all of my strength!

I am rescued from pain and torture.

Loved when I never was before.

I am no longer a freak or whore,

And am able to use my strangeness to cure,

The ills of the world, and order restore.

Sometimes I can’t live here anymore.

Where I am a freak, and not special at all.

Where I was not rescued and nobody cared,

And the villains escaped long, long before;

And really I am just a freak and a whore.

K. Aldaya, 07/04/13

Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://www.wired.com/images_blogs/underwire/images/2008/09/26/noheroics.jpg

240. Insane Blood

I lie on the gurney,

The doctor looks at me with disgust and annoyance;

And don’t you agree?

That I’m shameful and dirty?

In every degree?

Drawing out my blood.

The doctor starts filtering but there’s a problem!

Out pours a filthy flood!

A murky mess of disgrace.

A door opens. A thud.

A shrink walks inside.

Revulsion and repugnance were worn on his face.

He diagnosed, “MAD!”,

That my blood’s too infected,

Slutty, black, and bad.

No filter could clean,

All the filth of my past and my mind; a disease.

The infection’s obscene!

Poisoning my plasma with offense.

It’s too late to convene!!

“Your life it’s a shame,

You will always be seen as damaged and decrepit.”

“Never be seen the same;

As the culprit is not here,

Only you’re left to blame.”

“Your blood is a stain,

On our entire way of living and society.”

“We’ll have to detain;

Lock you away where none see,

That ‘they’ made you insane.”

K. Aldaya, 06/21/13

Picture: from Sucker Punch: Oscar Isaac and Emily Browning; http://cineleet.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Dr.-Blue-Jones.jpg