Paradise.My arms ache, from digging through
rough and ruin, in search of
I saw it in a whispered dream,
And there, nothing
hurt; we were unspoken.
With winter came warmth and summer snow,
And nothing died, just ceased to
with me, in paradise.
Pride and Acceptance ?They loathe me;
they shout the worst words
right in my ear,
burning, scathing words.
I am proud... Proud of me, of who I am, of what I am.
I'm alone now, shunned.
I curl up in the wastelands
of something I once recognised
as my most intimate identity,
but now feels foreign and outlandish;
I am not wrong, they just don't understand me.
(I am proud.I don't need anyone elseto accept me;I accept myself.)