Words weren’t needed for me to know that you just didn’t like me.
Your face, your demeanor told me that as far back as I can remember.
The only reason for that: I wasn’t born a male as you’d hoped for.
I gave up trying to make you see me,
the hatred festering in my young heart,
weighing me down,
killing a part of me.
Years have gone by
and those ghosts no longer haunt me.
I can’t say I hate you,
nor can I say I love you,
because I feel neither.
I can’t say what I don’t feel.
I can’t feel what I don’t feel.
All I can say is it hurts to see you now,
a prisoner in your body and your mind,
where past and present crash into one another.
My hope is that the power greater than us
takes care of you in her own way,
that life is kind to you,
eternally.
What I can do is hold your hand,
sit with you,
as we get lost in our own maze,
very much together and apart.
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Past. Present.
Clear glass. Murky sea.
My mind a mess.
Reflections. Shadows.
Reality. Dreams.
It all collides. Shatters.
Moments captured in frames,
fading, faded.
Yet what was, is,
suspended in time.
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