The Real Me

December 5, 2009
By , Oakland, CA
I don’t know how I got to
be the person that I am.
I don’t know when I became
this 17 year old, bisexual rebel.
I’m a rebel because people call me
a rebel.
Why am I going to lie,
I know I am.
I’m different and I’m a rebel.
I’m different because instead
of liking girls,
I like both guys and girls.
Instead of liking soccer or another sport,
I can’t stand sports.
Instead of liking 2Pac, Jay-Z,
and Kanye,
I like Lady Gaga, P!nk,
and f*** I even like Britney.
That makes me a rebel to society.

I’m a rebel because that’s how
people see me.
What people label me because I’m different.
But they don’t know nothing about me.
They don’t know both the physical
and emotional pain I deal with.

I sliced my head open when I was 10.
I thought that I would never open my eyes again
the moment I felt the pain.
I felt the blood pour out of me,
pouring uncontrollably like water pouring down from the rain.

In the hospital, on the hospital bed
all I could think about was
how much I didn’t want to die.
I didn’t want to leave Earth.
All I could do was pray.
Pray to God,
mi Virgencita de Guadalupe,
and to my abuelo.
Please don’t take me now.
I don’t want to die.

I carry the scar with me
because I’m force to.
It will always stay there as a reminder
of what happened to me.
It will always be a reminder of all the pain.

I was thrown against cold stairs
by the person who shares the same blood as me.
My body hit the cold stairs
and all I wanted to do was lay there.
Lay there because the person who pushed me
was the same person I loved and I still
continue to love no matter what!

As I lay on the stairs,
I could see the tears forming in my eyes.
I felt that knot I feel in my throat
whenever I cry.
I didn’t want to tears to escape my eyes
because I didn’t want anyone to see me cry.

People don’t know
all the emotional pain I deal with.
They don’t know about the times
I stay in bed and cry.
I cry because my soul cries.
The tears leave my body through my soul’s reflection.
Which are my eyes,
my brown eyes.

I cry because of all
my family goes through.
Barely having enough money to survive.
We barely have enough
yet thieves sneak in our house and steal from us.

I cry at night
because of Green Eyes.
Knowing that he can never be mine.
And because of that my heart cries.
I know he can’t be mine
but yet I can’t let him go.
Just what people expect,
a bi guy falling for a straight guy.
But call me whatever you want.
Gay, fag, homo, queer, Satan’s spawn,
and Son of Lucifer.
I don’t give a f***!
Your words only make my skin thicker,
and you make me a fighter.

I cry at night
because I don’t know what love is.
All I do is ask myself:
When will it be me?
I’m sick of waiting for love to come by.
And because of that I feel alone and completely empty.

I wish I could block everything.
All the negativity and all the pain.
I want to be the only person
on Earth, so I won’t feel pain.
But they world still spins,
and negativity and pain try to take me down.
I don’t know if I can rise above.

If all that love is
is pain.
F*** you can keep it.
Because Love + Pain = Heartbreak

Heartbreak, pain and negativity
are the reason why I put
these four walls around
my corazon.
I wish they would come down
but that will only happen once
my soul stops crying, when my heart doesn’t feel pain,
when the tears stop escaping from my eyes.
And when all the pain and heartbreak
is a distant memory.

People think of me as a rebel.
People can say whatever they want about me
because it seems like I’m the only one that knows
the real me.





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