audreyelizabeth
As I go forth in my journey,
I look back at the steps I have taken.
Loves lost,
Hearts broken,
Words unspoken.
It all seems so trivial now, standing here.
It all seems so insignificant.
And yet,
I look ahead.
I look ahead knowing, feeling,
That there is something greater waiting to happen.
My journey has just begun.
The teeth of your words dig into my skin.
They tear my flesh,
They bite off my fingers.
So painfully, I cried out into the night.
And everyone heard me,
But no one listened.
Surely, in some other life, in some other world, I was shown a way out.
I was shown an escape from the cruel reality of things.
But not in this life, and not in this world.
I am shown the facts, and then forced to live with them.
If I dare question them,
What outcome prevails?
Show me a sign.
Show me a way out.
Show me that you are here.
What I have been shown, I cannot deny. I cannot prove it wrong.
I'd like to believe it's all a lie.
I'd like to believe it's all some sick, twisted fantasy that runs through my head all day long.
But what I've been shown, is what I see.
What I see is right before me.
The truth.
In plain black and white, right before my eyes.
I tell myself that I am wrong. That this is all an illusion.
But my eyes know otherwise.
I was raised in fire.
Brought up by wolves.
Wild, careless creatures.
And now, I am cold. Shivering.
Longing for the warm breeze of home.
But I am left out here alone in the cold, starry, night.
Beautiful skies,
Don't desert me now.
You make an entrance. Every time.
To you, it's only walking through a door.
To you, it's only showing up.
But now you're here.
And you've made an entrance. Every pair of eyes is on you now. Everybody becomes silent. But you don't even realize it.
You make an entrance, & my heart stops. I want to be with you. I want to know you. Your name, your life, anything about you.
But you don't even realize any of this.
To you, it's only walking through a door.
"Act civilized," They all told me, "Act like a lady."
But maybe I don't want to act like a lady.
Maybe I want to act like a boy. A careless, slouched, improper boy.
A boy who laughs at the silly things.
A boy who does not have to wear fancy frills and dresses.
"Be quiet, and wipe that smile off your face."
The upper floor.
Oh, how I've wanted to go there. So many times, I've made my way to the staircase. So many times, I've just stood in front of the staircase, one foot extended, never quite willing to climb those stairs.
I've wanted to go there. And knock on your door, and see your face.
But I can't bear the sight of hers.
So I stay here.
At the bottom.
I'll just take my feet away from the stairs and go home.
The upper class.
A thing we all wanted.
All of the fancy cars, the expensive designer clothes.
But why did we want that?
Couldn't we see what happened behind closed certains?
Lies, deceit, shoving your way to the top.
I'd rather stay dirt poor.
Since when did everyone become someone else?
Since when am I the only one who is the same as yesterday?
Since when did everyone become so different?
Since when did my life change?