To My Progenitors

One day,

I'll know acceptance.

To be able to tell my thoughts

without fear

of persecution

anger

and the 

inevitable

betrayal.

Some day,

I'll learn to trust people.

To not feel guilt

in seeking the refuge

of advice

from those who 

know my pain.

Pain.

I 

would like to think

I could confide in you.

But I know better.

Perhaps

I can bring her to meet you.

But 

thanks to your

teachings,

I realize that

I'll run.

Faster.

Farther.

Sooner.

In some far off future,

maybe 

I won't seek the touch of a razor

caressing 

and the lines it leaves behind.

Crimson first, 

then dark.

Blurring.

Beading.

Falling.

Onto the white purity you think

is my reality.

Where it stands

in stark contrast

until 

it is blurred 

by the acidity

of the tears

that 

fall

from

my 

grey 

eyes.

But I know 

no other way.

Thus the 

soft 

white

flesh

that is my being

will furthermore 

be stained

by the 

stark scoring

that is my salvation. 

Reviews

[Abigail]

Great poem. Coming out was the hardest thing I've ever done and I lost some friends when I did but I guess they weren't true friends. But getting to be myself all of the time was greater than any friendship could be!

[SleeplessVolcano]

Beauty from the ashes, my friend. It is hard, so terribly hard, to make sense of it all, yet to be on that road towards acceptance is a place to start from.......sometimes, mere survival is victory......but we cannot expect victory, if we are still working through some survival issues.........keep bleeding your words into such creative pieces....it is within our most painful moments that the seeds of our future abundant harvests are sown....:)

[InsidiousRain]

Thank you!