Why do you call me a freak?

June 14, 2010
By , A Field of Paper Flowers, CA
Why do you call me a freak?
I could say the same about you,
Why do you care so much for others feelings?
I don’t understand, and I don’t really want to,
They don’t matter to me; all that matters is what I feel.
People call me cold, withdrawn, and a sociopath.
Well, I’m not. I’m just different from you.
But since when dose that matter right,
Why can’t you just accept me?
You say I’m sick and you put me away,
Hidden away like an old pair of shoes,
You told me that you would let me come home soon,
But that was years ago.
How long are you going to keep me locked up like an animal?
Are you scared of me?
Or scared that I might hurt someone else?
You don’t know do you.
I guess it’s just easier to ignore me than it is to except the fact that I am not like you.
Fine.
I can accept the fact that you hate me.
It’s easier than you might think,
Especially for me.
If you want me to say that I’m sorry,
Then you’re out of luck, because I’m not sorry for being me.





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