Until Then


I carry

Stones in my soul

Weights on my wings

And ink in my pen, that spills

Animosity for the unique

Is suffering unwaveringly beckoned

Upon the shoulders of the shivering

As if we weren’t



Everyday, I hope to be seen

As a person, not a disorder or sin

A living vibrance of the highest design

I could finally hide

That stupid wig in a box

They make me wear it, in shame and jester

To survive to the next day

I do

But then, after?

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