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The Cry of the Secondhand Human

I was never meant to love
Play your games, dance your way
Left out because of what I wasn’t
I use to cry, now dry deserts corner my eyes
Yet you never noticed, or cared
Look at the child of your hands,
Look at the miserable pain
Sleep evades me, and pain wont grace me
Even Death is too much for me, I’m stuck
A shell of what was once so much promise,
Love, and faith, now soulless I die, lifeless
Its never easy being wrong, but
When you were born like this, what can
One do but bear it and hope, only to be hurt again
I loved a girl once, five years I
Worshipped every action of her perfect frame,
Then she took my heart, crushed it, and left the remains,
A mere pile of dust, what could be worse, she didn’t
Even know what she had done
I haven’t loved since, love replaced by meaningless
Feeling, an attempt to appear human, while I
Rot inside, as a Secondhand Human, rejected by my own
A pain bearer for the strong, who are so weak,
I don’t want pity though, I don’t even
Seek revenge, I just want you to know
What you can do, so you will never do it
Again. I’m broken beyond repair,
And none of you knew, none of you will
Know, because I hide it so well under
Masks of joy and happiness, lifeless illusions for your
Pleasure, but when the world is asleep, your
Judgmental eyes close, and I’m alone,
I can’t stop the hate, stop the
Loathing I feel, for the face in the mirror.
My life is not all bad though
Its truly just proves that all that
Glitters isn’t gold, that sometimes someone
Has to suffer so the world can sleep,
I suffer so you can sleep, because I never tell,
About my miserable life, that you
Cast upon me, I could have been anything,
Popular, brilliant, handsome, or even athletic, but
You took me for what I was worth,
And left me, alone, hurting, crying
Until my tears no longer flowed,
The hate faded into the nothing,
Complete cold that shrouds the mind, and
Silences the soul, a cold, a cruel
Ruthless being, that is alone, indescribably
Alone, the sleepless dreamer, the Orphan
Of the American dream,
I stare at the Moon, and wish
I was there struggling for breath,
So the world could claim its victim,
And I could rest in peace, and you
Could all realize what you have done
To me, the modern day Atlas, chained
By your wills and your desires, to serve as
Your support, bearing a guilt I have not
Earned, nor could ever earn, but
Wearing the badge of slavery all the same,
I don’t hate you. I love you. That is worse
Than any form of hate I could achieve, because,
The monster you made, is now the
Servant without pay, that is so selfless
And loving, because you destroyed anything
He could have been selfish for, I hope your proud,
Look at me Mother, aren’t I beautiful?
Stare into my eyes Father, can you see it?
Can you see what I could have been, what
I could have done, the endless upward flight I could have,
Achieved, but you siphoned it to feed your
Machine. You should be proud, I’m everything you
Wanted, except I’m everything you despise,
I love you, do you love me, or are you waiting for the final
Breath of your greatest failed success? I am.
I hope I’m the child you always wanted,
The bruises always healed, the blood ceased flow,
Eventually, and the beatings stopped, unfortunately,
I’m still breathing, your creation, your Frankenstein of
The twenty first century, look upon your monster now,
Not so innocent and happy now, mask less and hideous.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve learned much
From my useless life, I’ve learned how to cope, and
Help people become who they were destined to
Never be, but with borrowed aptitude, my aptitude,
They can become. Even as I write this lament, a burning
Candle to the sightless world, I wonder if
I’m again wasting not only ink, but your time
And scribble it out again, yet,
Inevitably, it is always perched on my window the next morning,
Ready to be finished, waiting for my hand to express
What tongue has been forbidden too, the truth
About what’s behind these lying eyes, still no one
Will remember the truth I bury beneath
Insignificant lies, because
I’ll always be one step ahead of them, not just you, but
My lies. Atlas cannot choose his burden, but must bear it
With reverence and solemnity,
A silenced bearer of humanities darkest sins, even with
Blood running down his chest, knees shaking
Arms struggling to uphold his burden, he cannot let go,
Who would forgive him then, without his burden
He becomes more than nothing, he becomes
An embodied, existing nothing. As you
Sleep tonight, I’ll be awake
Bleeding for sins that aren’t mine, nor ever can be,
Because the world deemed me strong enough
To bear the weight of others grief and pain, in order to
Allow them the peace of mind to
Sleep, to dream so tomorrow as I struggle to
breathe under the massive burden,
They can change the world, be important,
Be human, so alive, so raw, without a
Worry in the world, perfectly flawed. Brilliant, amazing,
Beings of such boundless intellect and keen insight.
Yet that’s what makes it worse
No one knows, or cares,
About the masked figure who holds their
World aloft, who keeps them safe, suffering
So they don’t have to, behind masks that can hide
Even the loudest screams. Goodnight, or good morning,
They are one and the same for your sleepless child,
Sleep well, dream big, dream for me, please,
Because I never can. Love longer, kiss
Her twice, once for me, snuggle closer to him, feel
The heat of another human body, yet also the warmth from care
Of another human, and feel safe and
Comforted, what I have been denied, but
You have been allowed, do what I never can because
I can’t. Goodnight, I’m not leaving,
I’ll be here tomorrow,
As always, suffering, endlessly,
Masked, never letting you in, to protect you
Mother, from the torture of the son you never knew you
Had borne, and from you Father, the shame
Of your broken son, whom you deny exists,
Thank you for listening, I truly wish you hadn’t,
To the heartless, empty
Cry of the Secondhand Human.





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