Poems

Sick

I am so sick.

Sick of what you stand for.

Sick of what you call for.

What you pray to your god for.

Do we worship the same one?

Yours hates people like me.

The people who hurt, who feel, who cry.

The people who are different.

Who strive to make a difference.

“Don’t make waves! No!”

Your god looks down at me.

And laughs.

And you laugh with him.

Him.

But my god?

They are the most Loving Creator.

The Divine Heart.

They look at me and smile and say,

“You are you because I made you.

Perfect.”

Perfect.

I am sick of your lies, your untruths,

Your blasphemy.

–KMJ

To Those Who Stare

Your disgusted look.

That too-long stare.

I know what you think of me.

Different.

Other.

Retard.

But if you knew what it was like to tic,

To feel every neuron pulsing inside at once,

To feel body parts move and twitch and squirm,

Without direction.

Without meaning.

With humiliation.

With pain.

You might feel compassion.

And you would not stare.

–KMJ

Drowning

Gasping

Longing for air

The surface is so close

But they tell me

“No! No!”

To be normal is to drown

–KMJ

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