Something I wrote!!

Here's a deep feeling, thought-provoking vignette I wrote!!


CROWDS

Cast your eyes
upon the crowd.
Where do you
belong?
For some,
they can take long,
confident strides
towards the group
that they know
to stand in.
For some,
they are loners.
They feel their place
lies in the corner,
silent and
alone.
For others,
like me,
we do not know where
we belong.
The ones we love the most
cut us down,
hurt us so many times
that our souls can hardly feel
it anymore.
The ones we glance at,
the ones who slightly accept us,
seem to shine,
like the thing we long to have.
Sometimes,
we are torn.
Sometimes,
the ones who we love
love us in return.
Other times,
the ones we barely know
open their hearts
wider than our closest
friends.
Most times,
I feel,
the ones I want to be with
hold things against me.
Hold them tight
in their fists
and turn their backs.
I become
nothing,
deteriorating
to ashes
by the glares of the people
whom I love.
Sadness engulfs me.
Panic prickles my skin.
Realization
sloshes about in my head,
like a spilled cup of water
that needs to be tended to.
Change.
It says.
Change is what you need.
I grip both sides
of my place
and say no.
No,
it will get better.
No,
they will change before I have to.
No,
I will sit here,
eyes shut tight,
and wait for the beatings to stop.
No,
I will catch my breath
when it's all over,
stand up,
walk away,
and wait for a better tommorrow.
For I have done this
all my life.
So where in the crowd
do I choose to stand?
I head for the place
I always go
and hope that today
will be bright.
Hope that the words they speak
will not burn my skin,
my heart.
Hope that the glances they throw
will be filled with
kindness,
not hatred.
Hope that my hope
is worthy.
Crowds.
Filled with so many choices.
But in this crowd,
am I picking
the right place to stray?
Maybe I am meant to be a
loner,
fist under chin,
the corner as a friend.
Maybe I am meant to be a
socialite,
the kind that flies about,
talking to the world.
Maybe I am meant
to break free of these people
and find some who are always kind,
always acceptant of faults.
Or maybe,
just maybe,
my purpose is to
heal the hearts
of these I am standing with now.
Heal their hearts?
After they have beaten,
abandoned,
and ruined me?
Yes, maybe.
Maybe I am the example
of what their work does
to a kind soul;
twists it and makes it
unable to be
anything but their kind.
Maybe I am the outcast,
the person who doesn't fit anywhere,
that puzzle piece broken
during its creation.
I close my eyes and think.
Uncertainty is the only thing I see.