I look out from my silence,
seeking that which seems forbidden me.
I sleep long hours desperately clinging
to that dream of you,
that person I will wake up next to
for the rest of my days.
But as always,
I awake to find my world the same,
never ending in its dreary life.
I walk the same walk I always have,
seeing people on every side of me
linking arms with each other,
caressing skin,
doing things that I only dream of.
I struggle to be myself,
to keep that uniqueness from fading.
It seems that the world tries to define love,
beautiful people versus those of us who
are the norm.
One cannot look to see anything else
but beautiful people and see others hurt,
striving to be that poster guy or girl
on the wall in Macy’s.
I cannot be,
I will not be.
I am me and the world
must accept me as I am.
My lover must accept me as I am.
I may not be perfect,
but I have a hunger that needs to be fed
like everyone else does.
A passion sleeping within me
awaiting the day when it will awaken
to the touch of their seeking hands,
their body against mine.
So I trudge on through this world,
fighting despair while
strengthening my resolve,
awaiting the day when they will come
in to this life of mine.