My secret faerie

December 10, 2008
By Anonymous

I wear a glamour, thick and restraining.
My skin tightly wrapped under this human flesh.
My eyes disguised, still see in many colors, more colors than the rainbow, or the ones inbetween.
I hear the songs of the others who are trapped like me.
Held prisoner in their human hides, few but many.
We are forced to see what could be, never what is.
Longing for a taste of the sweet nectar, that is the honey of independence, freedom, the ability to be what we really are.
We wait, spending our days hiding amongst you, happy mortals.
I wait.
Wait, until the day when I can rip free.
When the time comes, I will peel back this private perdition, tear what holds me, and finally feel real.
Finally feel like me.

The author's comments:
I've always been enticed by faeries, I had convinced myself that I was one when I was younger, and have always had a strong belief that they are out there somewhere. There is a faerie myth of changelings, that faerie's steal human babies and replace them with faerie children who are glamoured to look like the humans, and think that they are, but always have a feeling of being out of place. I've never been the sort of person who fits in, sure I have plenty of friends, but I'm just a little different in ways. The poem is more about being personally trapped, by the pressures of society to look and act 'normal' and wishing to break free and be myself, but there is also a small part that actually is just me wishing the faerie's would come and return me to faerie land.

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