Sadness

I am not better.
I was so,
So wrong.
And now I’m sad again.

It’s the middle of the night,
As I write the words that are my emotions.
They are solemn and grim,
And full of sin.

I am dying,
Slowly but surely,
From the inside out.
From my mind, to my heart.

Soon,
Even my posture will show,
Show the horrid truths,
Of what lay beneath.

I am a son,
A boy,
A man.
Not a woman.

Not a young lady,
Nor a little girl,
Or a girl at all.
I am a boy.

I hurt.
My mind,
My body.
It hurts so, so much.

I long for a savior.
Not something I can’t see.
Something that will show itself,
Show all of itself,

To me.

I am attention seeking.
Dumb,
Idiotic.
Useless,
Gross,
Odd,
And all around a pain to be near.

I don’t feel the way others do.
I don’t feel the joy of the moment.
The happiness of a party,
Or the love from a family.

I feel alone.
Scolded,
By those who were meant to help.
They simply left me after leaving behind a few harsh words.

So I leave you with encouragement:
Be you.
Hurt,
Love,
Hate,
Adore,
But most importantly,
Live…