As I come into the age of majority
The world becomes both lucid and murky
In the recesses of my mind.

I am faced with a crippling melancholy
that no amount of serotonin could
Ever counteract.

Not that those around me will ever realize it
Of course.

In my younger years everything
Was easy. My thoughts, dreams,
And desires were easily dictated
And understood.

But I've seemingly reached
A stage in my life where
My beliefs come to a
Crossroads with that
Of those around me.

I am surrounded by
People who cannot
Accept who I have become,
Wishing to entrench themselves
In memories of the past
In lieu of facing the present.

No support,
No encouragement,
I find solace in the
Relative safety
Of self expression
Within the arts.

In my younger years,
My life had a clear direction.
I had a predetermined route,
Facilitated by support and confidence.
And now,
I have neither,
The fates have turned on me
Leading me to question
the existence of
This so-called god.

With that came
The clarity of my reality.
As if rose tinted glasses
Had been viciously flying
From my face, forcing
Aletheia upon me.

In my majority,
Realizations come
As the moon rises
Upon the horizon.
It is often unsettling,
but the sensation shall soon grow
Numb.