To Be Different

I remember the first time someone called me...different.


I was young and oblivious.

It was a slap in the face.

I remember my mouth was left hanging like an unhinged door.

The girl that said it walked away nonchalantly.


There was pain in my chest.

I realized a seed had been planted.


My entire life I tried to rid of that seed.

I attacked it with weed killers.

I severely pruned leaves to the point

That even I could not recognize that there was a plant within me.


I tried anything to separate myself

From the thing that made me feel...different.


I shut myself into the darkest of spaces,

Where I knew light could not penetrate.

But to my surprise, the plant fought back.


It found a way to survive and even...grow.


I always thought it was a weed

But it is blooming now.


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