Time is unkind

To the pale shadow that is us

 

Time Heals

No! It takes everything and anything in its path.

I am unhealed

I'm hopeless and scarred

But I am here.

 

Time forgot those like me, and that's okay.

I am but an ant to the cosmos.

My screams shaking even in its indecipherable silence

My thoughts clawing their way up my throat

Nails digging, digging, digging.

 

Time, it broke me.

In the past, I saw the world painted in lights and shadows.

The crevice of my lost mind

The webbing of my creators.

I was lost in a gilded cage.

The path not chosen I shall take.

In past I broke free, LIAR, I broke free.

 

Time gave me a new stage to play every season,

Never old,

Never a new.

It gave me a mask, NO,

The Mask! Yes

It was ugly/ It was beautiful.

Was it me?

No never me.

 

Time told me to move, to change.

I look towards my enemy and with a laugh, "I always wanted to fly"

I let the shadows grab me, covering me in filth.

I kept my back straight and head high as yeers rained upon me.

Even with the purple and blue sprinkled on my face

 

Time didn't let me shed a tear on my own.

Not even at birth

Not till I knew pain.

 

Time taught me to hate.

From five to nine I wish the world would burn, no one asked why.

I woke from sleep in silence, never with tears or screams like others my age.

I saw wrath in the special bottles adults drink, pain hidden in every raised voice or hand.

 

At ten I saw the world and me painted in front of my eyes

On the surface of a reflective glass, I abhorred it.

No one looked like me

Anywhere!

Not on tv, not at home or at school.

I was alone, I despised it and me.

 

At ten the world told me how to change and I did.

In front of plain glass, I whispered

Die... My shirt lifted, the view hazy with my disgust.

Mami cried when she came in unexpectedly to tell me the food was ready.

But I wasn't ready for it.

I heard her story, I heard her call me beautiful.

Even with my stomach concaved and ribs showing enough for me to play.

I cried without pain that night, over a bowl of chili no one said a thing.

 

At eleven my parents with their lashing tongues, heavy spoken scriptures.

We prayed for rest and love.

Angels covered and protected us.

"No locked doors, in this house", they said.

Their eyes trying to shatter glass, their breath wishing me pink.

Time taught me to hate.

 

At thirteen I knew death had it out for me.

It came for everyone but me.

It came to those who were kindest.

Their insides poisoning them from within, I found a new thing to hate.

An unabating malignant building of cells; Cancer.

God will provide, even as we slept in the place where prayers are given.

Did the angels leave?

 

At fourteen no one teaches you how to love and how its found.

I thought myself broken for not wanting anything or anyone.

Repulsed by the ideas of touch and contact.

I was taught to bend.

I saw a monster in the glass and demons in the shadows.

The church told me to fight against the vile thing known as young love.

It was easy, it really was.

Until it wasn't.

I was crushed by a friend.

I saw pleasure in the hands of another, of love and trust in hands of a boy.

Repulsive

All the sickly feelings, hormones give.

I was evil, I was meant to burn

The edge of a blade too pure touch my skin.

 

Two months before my quince, I found comfort in knots and steel edges.

My castle became a prison of sleepless nights and hallucinations.

The shadow sang pretty promises, of a crimson resting place.

The angels took flight not aware of the ropes.

At fifteen I was painted for my show,

A new mask placed on top of the other.

I stayed away from the ceiling fan, and pretty lace collars on girls necks.

The reflective glass more jaded than before

I cried myself to sleep at four am on the big night.

Hands clasped around a thinly veiled muscle.

 

At sixteen I learned there's a rainbow of people like me

A spectrum of potential.

It had a name, Demisexual.

I was dragged into the unknown.

I lost another to the poison, I let the shadows take me again.

I let the glares, and hateful words hit me like daggers.

Letting the wounds fester, and poison with every regurgitated sorry.

I dreamt of crimson sliding down my flesh

The river of red beautiful.

 

At seventeen the purple blues came again like dear friends.

I truly missed them, they gave me life.

I dreamt of the burn of high spirits in my throat and lungs.

I felt selfish, and every remembered curse of my pack a new scar.

Red paint splattered along my wall.

 

At eighteen I lie awake

Tying my leg with a rope of brimstone

The edge of teeth on skin brought an awakening

Time let me breathe

I think?

 

Time wanted me to forgive.

You know what, fuck time.

 

Signed its most hated participant.