Current

The current that runs through the system like a live wire,

and the electricity buzzing only burns me.

Two loving parents,

two low paying jobs,

one bad economy,

three children,

a messed up drug addict trying to do right to his baby momma,

a beautiful girl who is running to God,

and me.

Last and never chosen for anything.

The current affects me.

The current harms me,

it beats me,

it throws a punch in my face.

Always will I be taught that 

because I am me, 

I can take care of myself,

That I must be strong

because there are worse things out there.

Look to your brother at his messed up life,

don't be like that.

Be like your sister,

look how good she is doing.

Be like her.

The expectation,

the comparison,

the current.

I hate it.

With a passion devoid in all other avenues,

I hate being compared to the looks of my sister,

to the screw ups of my brother,

to the success of the mother,

the strength of my father.

I AM NOT THOSE PEOPLE!

I am me, 

I accept who I am 

I am confident in myself,

the current has made me this way

It has ensured I would be reliant on myself alone,

and in equal parts I hate it

and could be no one else,

because the current is who I am.

The current is the blood in my veins.

But I will slash my wrists in order to drain,

to get the electricity out,

to be my own. 

Only me.

Stop the comparison,

because no one else will reach my level.

I am drained dry,

I have escaped the live wires, 

saluted the telephones lines that mock my existence.

So change your view.

I am my own,

not yours.

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