Open Dialogue

I was failed, this is just something to come out and say.

As a child, I was failed, as a teenager, I was failed, as a young adult I was failed drastically.

In turn, I became the product of said failures.

This will not be a moment of poetic enthusiasm or a smart way of telling a story

This is just speech, a conversation that is held out in the open, you can choose to listen or disregard

It is not too often I just go off the cuff, I needed to this time, I am struggling to say the least

Not with anything life or death, just in the sense of acceptance and what that means to me

All my life, I have struggled with the desire to be wanted, to be accepted, to be acknowledged for who I am

I found more acceptance to the individual that I was growing to be from friends

the place I was told I had to call home was more like a prison, felt like freedom outside of those walls

The reason I started writing was a way to express my pain and love to my mother

then it became a way to express my love and admiration into the nuance of life and beauty

that so many people overlook but I pay attention to all of those small details all the time

those who grew up with me, knew the way I moved and why I expressed myself in the manners I did

quietly singing to myself in the corner, quietly writing out many poems while all around me was education

living in a house where I only existed in one room or outside of the dwelling

do you think it was a clue that my evenings consisted of staying outside until I could no longer see my hands

then retreating behind a closed door without too much interaction with those outside my own space

It is hard for someone to lose the main person in their life then go to where they feel they do not matter

It is hard for someone to take on the responsibility for someone who just lost the main person in their world

Right is right, wrong is wrong, making someone feel like an outside or an outcast is pretty black and white

There are some questions that you will go your life seeking the answer to and when you finally receive it

you realize the waiting and the search for that answer changes nothing, confirms the deep feeling of emptiness

this same deep feeling of emptiness that you already had for years while searching for the answer grows deeper

the well empties out more just knowing that the hint of optimism you had was wasted just for the sake of time

For 35 years I wondered if I actually mattered to my father, only to find out that I did not, did that answer help?

It opened my eyes to how much it mattered to me that I was not accepted, not wanted where I lived

or even now in my adult life, acceptance from others, how much my individuality has been a detriment to my life

or is that the thoughts of a person who has just wanted to be accepted for who they were and has spent more time

on the other end of that wall, staring at bricks and wondering what do they have to do in order to be fixed?

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