Wed, 08/29/2018 - 10:11 -- Jerney


I first learned to use this word

to describe my family situation.

"No, no, no-- you've got it all wrong!

Fighting only makes us unique, bruises and all!"

Then I took the word and relentlessly forced it to define me.

My anger, my melancholy; it makes me unique

I even eventually learned how to sharpen

the "q" and drive it through my flesh to accent

my differences and to account for my open wounds.

I held the word different down because I wanted

to be in with the out, I did not want to be the same.

But I metamorphisized my difference, transfused

it to the prefix in.

Indifferent-- I became indifferent.

I severed humanity from my beating stone

heart, I merely created a corpse of myself.

I didn't see many living corpses roaming the

earth so there-- I was unique.

The lack of rules for being unique

failed to mention that unique was lonely's

identical twin. They, scratch that, we

were inseparable.

Lonely was rough sometimes. He'd

horseplay with pieces of my heart and

I felt it. Every jab every stomp every kick.

I came to the conclusion that lonely was

painful so I wanted to get rid of them both.

I craved normal and his entourage

with such a deep hunger that I starved myself to

be skinny and attract his eye. I laughed at every joke

like if I didn't, the earth would crack like an old Easter egg

and Satan himself would pop out to smite me.

I only allowed myself to follow the crowd,

dress in society's hottest and achieve the average.

Normal never once looked at me.

Unique's shadow haunted me, loomed over my "should haves"

I swear I even heard her whisper, "We are the same--

you are Unique."

I informed her that I'd heard that a million times

and it only separated me; it made humans despise me,

it condoned my family's addictions and

worst of all, it hurt.

It was excruciating to burden myself with a

dictionary term that showed no signs of mercy.

It was painful because I claimed out of ignorance

to be alone. It wasn't until jolting awake in the

dead of day that I was wrong all along.

Because of every memory stored deep in my brain,

because of every moment I reminisced--

I was unique.

Unique didn't have to be linked to lonely.

In fact, someone dear to my heart

taught me through every step

unique is just another word for Beauty.


This poem is about: 
My family
My community


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