Misfits – Solitude of I

“…misfits. We do not fit into this world without amputations.”
– Marge Piercy
 “All the colors of they are not the color of I

In mimicry I taint the skin of me

All the sounds of they are not the sound of I

In mimicry I change the voice of me

All the dances of they are not the moves of I

In mimicry I perform awkward ways

All the hopes of they are not the future of I

In mimicry I pretend a winning destiny” 
– DMW



Waking in an unseemly state, I look around at my world of unbelonging. The crazy thing is that in my head is where my world is. It’s where the torments of mockers echo for years, where the pain of violence stings long past the healing of the body. I stay alone in my room, dark is how I like it there. My cave is where solitude commands my death of a thousand cuts. Each cut a remark, an injury, a symptom, a mental deficiency that demands my obedience to awkward and unusual ways. When I open my door and come out to play with society, my mimicry is perfected. Hidden beneath my smiling ways are necrotic tendencies that mortify normalcy. I reach out in the dark, on my bed, reaching out to an invisible God who seems to answer but in the most subtle and barely noticeable ways. What I want is a touch, a physical touch. It is not HE that answers physically but when another misfit finds me, then we both realize that we are not alone, but we belong to a group that will never stay together by virtue of our mental disabilities. Like magnets we are, spinning off the negatives of each other…no hold for my anchor, sending my vessel into dire straights.

The Little Door – Rage is hidden

“Despite all my rage
I am still just a rat in the cage.”
Billy Corgan
 

Wondering were I got this rage

I started looking ’round the cage
Hiding in the back, a little door. 
Shocked, I never saw this before
Pressing close my ear, hoping to feel
hot to the touch, it made me kneel
Whats behind the door, I’m brave to behold
Rest assured it would soon be told.
Locked! But how do I see?
But soon the door would open to me
Turning away I vented a rage
then I heard a click from the back of my cage
Spinning and turning with a stare
I fell to my knees, all of me aware
The door swung open wide
revealing all that was crammed inside
Memories of things all bad
every one of them made me mad
And with a great breath of wind
a sudden gust that made me spin
to escape from this caged man
jumping to my feet again
I’ll not be captive to anger’s sin
I shoved the door closed with all my might
That will do for now, but then the night
I sit shivering looking across the room
at the little door hiding crazy gloom
I will destroy the insanity
without this rage I will be free
to fly again without a cry
No doors now, in my open sky.

Also published in: Broowaha
09082011 

The Little Door – Rage is hidden

“Despite all my rage
I am still just a rat in the cage.”
Billy Corgan
 

Wondering were I got this rage

I started looking ’round the cage
Hiding in the back, a little door. 
Shocked, I never saw this before
Pressing close my ear, hoping to feel
hot to the touch, it made me kneel
Whats behind the door, I’m brave to behold
Rest assured it would soon be told.
Locked! But how do I see?
But soon the door would open to me
Turning away I vented a rage
then I heard a click from the back of my cage
Spinning and turning with a stare
I fell to my knees, all of me aware
The door swung open wide
revealing all that was crammed inside
Memories of things all bad
every one of them made me mad
And with a great breath of wind
a sudden gust that made me spin
to escape from this caged man
jumping to my feet again
I’ll not be captive to anger’s sin
I shoved the door closed with all my might
That will do for now, but then the night
I sit shivering looking across the room
at the little door hiding crazy gloom
I will destroy the insanity
without this rage I will be free
to fly again without a cry
No doors now, in my open sky.

Also published in: Broowaha
09082011