In hoping a may, I have found dismay. In waiting for the day, I have lost the will to stay. Life is beautiful and even in times when I step on the precipice of sadness, I am reminded the fall will not give me wings to fly. The angels have forsaken our kind and no hero is coming to save us all.
We have one life and as we grow in this world, misunderstood, masking and trying to show emotions they call normal, we are branded heretics, mute, heartless and the untamed. A world that breaks us from its sound, impedes with its smells and shatters with its flashing lights. We crawl in the dark, overwhlemed, afraid to ask for help. Afraid to be seen. We get lost in memories of turmoil and the grave stones no longer hold our name. We are words that once mattered, now forgotten from the scripts of divinity. With senses evolved to thrive, minds built to lead and creativity of life, we are labeled as those who do not wish to be part of society. It is not for our defect but your privilige that you fail to realize our brilliance.
We shine a light your eyes call darkness because you are incapable of witnessing it. We are not soulless moulds in your homes, we hold spirits let down, and bodies branded with hate. We carry the emotions of the world and a mask that fakes smile when you have left us abandoned.
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