My memory isn’t quite what it used to be,
It was never perfect because
Nothing ever is
Nothing ever was
I was never perfect.
I am still not perfect.
I am still the bespectacled spectacle of
Unkempt hair and perpetual clumsiness
That I was when I was small.
When I thought I knew it all and
I was the circus clown that didn’t care.
Blissfully ignorant and unaware of
Labels and diagnoses that would
Shake and shape my life.
It was a time when right and wrong
Was trial and error and
The only terror was make-believe monsters
In the closet and under my bed.
In a time where we talked to our friends
Rather than sending a text and being ignored instead and
People were just people and colour and gender was something we would accept.
I miss when coolness was measured in
Pokémon cards and personalities instead of
Drugs and alcohol and dodging STDs
And police cars.
It was a time before the internet.
Before external guilt started to
Carve my body with ideals and abuse.
Before my clothes, my hair, my body
Could be called right or wrong and
People hunted for reasons to
Drag us down to their level because
If they can’t be happy then neither should we.
Now, the trolls have moved out from the closet
And I’ve been forced to move in because
Freedom and expression are only for
Normal people and not circus clowns
Demoted to freak status because
They stood out from the crowd even though
They took steps both back and in.
Because society is a gang that
Only the cool and beautiful people are allowed in,
Like my friends.
My memory isn’t quite what it used to be,
And maybe at it wasn’t the best of times
All of the time but
It was when I was happy.
Because I could be me without
Punishment or discrimination.
It’s only just now that I’m beginning to realise
It was better than this.
Question from Madison N. from Facebook
Mxcellany - Poetry, Music, Art 