I Am Different

I’m rifling through the pockets in my mind,

Unaware of my surroundings.

                        I sit alone in the corner.

                        Make my mind look occupied. Pretend their not watching.

                                                                                    Hope their not looking.

What’s wrong with me?

            Why are they staring?

                        Is it the way I look?

                                    Is it the way I act?                               

                                                                                                            Their stares haunt me.

My body is overcome with immense sorrow.                            

                                                                                                            I am different.

They don’t understand my way of life.

They do not speak my obscure tongue.

            To them, I am a stranger, searching for solitude.

                                    What makes me different?

                                                                                    It’s on the inside, that’s what counts.                                                                                         All these years, people telling you,                                                                                             Appearance doesn’t matter.                  No, don’t be judged, be happy, be content.                                                                  Love you not your followers.

Push aside                    the hatred and open to your loved ones.

                                                                                                Let out the conflict inside.

                                                            Dig

                                                                        deep.

Give it everything you have and don’t look back.

                                                                                    But still, even after inspiration.

                       

Do we listen?                Do we follow through? Do we put those words to action?

           

We put ourselves through so much.                  Stress                                       Hardship                      Make a better version of ourselves.                                                                                          Only making us more insecure.

All I ask.

Is WHY?

...Lemon Juice

            Just the thought is revolting. I can smell the intense citrus from across the room. The toxic liquid is slowly exposed into my tiny, innocent, Dixie Cup. My body trembles and taste buds shriek, little do they know what horrid fluid was about to wash away every bit of sweetness they've ever tasted. I almost feel happy and excited, but I know that no matter what, this is not going to be an enjoyable experience. Why would I put my body through such torture? With my eyes closed tight, as though something terrible is going to jump out and scare me, I take my first whiff of the venomous substance. My nostrils quiver as the powerful aroma enters the cavity like ocean waves crashing against a rocky cliff. I can already taste the bitter lemons perspiring through my throat. I gulp for fresh air. Anything to extinguish that sour smell. Anything to rid my nose of this torment. I hold my breath. Somehow, I convince myself to drink it. I slowly pick up the tiny cup, without thinking, I gulp it down. To my surprise, it wasn't as bad as I anticipated. It was worse! My tongue tingled like it had just stuck it in a light socket and been shocked with 200 volts of electricity. Every part of my body regretted the choice I had just made. I mind exits that of consciousness and enters that of space. I spin in circles around stars and planets. My body is floating through the clustered universe. Still I am incapable of in taking any air into my lungs. Slowly suffocating, I come back to consciousness. I can breath again, but my esophagus swells and cries in agony. What was I thinking?!                   

A Strange Day

            My mother gets into the car and I am instantly dragged into the usual utterly dull small talk. "How was your day? I saw Dr. Mabley yesterday. Did you read the paper this morning?" I answer. I'm not particularly eager to do anything productive today, but its my daughters birthday today and my mum really wanted to get her something. I don't see the point. She's 21. After what seems like a lifetime, we finally arrive at Cherry Lane. "Mum?" I chirped. She was still in the car mumbling nonsense to her self. I stride over and gently grip her boney wrist and guide her across the crowded parking lot. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a mini school bus comes whipping around the corner heading straight for us! If I hadn't shoved Mum to the side at that instant, we would have been climbing the stairway into the sky. "How rude!" my mother wines.
            Later in the mall, we browse in a couple of stores. I stop in front Chapters and intensely inspect every single book on the main display table. Nothing new. My mind comes back to reality. Oh God. Where's Mum! She could be anywhere. She could be in The Bay. She could be in the food court. Heaven forbid, she could be in the lingerie store all by herself! I quickly gather my thoughts and begin to run over in my head what she was wearing. My vision shift to the left. I spot her white coat. Her grey curles hovering through the store like a ghost. I hurrry in after her. "What are you doing Mum?" I ask. "Looking for something for Chelsea." She replies cheerfully. I almost forgot. My hands gracefully run along the different fabrics as if they were a luscious waterfall of fresh spring water. How this world has changed so much in the past years. It feels like only yesterday I was baking muffins in the kitchen with my grandmother and my younger sister Mary. But now here I was, with a family of my own. How does time slip by so quickly?
            The store we were in seemed very fancy. My mother came across a black V-neck top with a low cut back and covered in sparkles. “This is nice.” Mum exclaims. I would never let my daughter wear something so provocative! “Umm, how about this one?” I point to two tops that are much more appropriate. "I like those." She says bluntly. Good enough I think. I notice, two younger girls in the store, they looked distracted and were continuously whispering to each other. I shook it off.
            While I was at the counter paying for the two tops, my mother was talking to one of the store clerks, “Those pants would look nice on you.” She said pointing to a pair of spandex pants on the rack. It was time to leave. We walk out of the store and I feel the strange again presence. Are those girls following us?