Hollow Shell

Thu, 11/05/2015 - 23:43 -- muse539

To those who judge me

before they know me

Call me immature

because of my age

Label me a lesbian

because I have short hair

Assume that they know me

before they’ve even met me

 

These days

people try to shove me into boxes

I am a number in a system

I am a single point in a string of binary

I don’t matter

I

Am

Nothing

I am a 1 or a 0 in our black and white, either/or world

Because

God forbid

I should ever become an AND

 

Funny AND depressed

Introverted AND extroverted

Teenage AND mature

 

What is wrong with me?

I’m shoved into a box that is so sharply defined

merely stretching it

could kill me.

 

I am defined by my age

my family

my appearance

my gender

my sexuality

 

my past.

 

I hate that this happens to me.

They strip away everything that matters

plaster me back together

like a paper mache of stereotypes

and lies

and call me

“normal”

“real”

“whole”

 

What’s whole about a hollow shell?

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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