Creative Writing

You are special.

Thanks.

But that doesn’t work anymore.

I know your trick.

Weird, strange, different;

replaced by ‘special’.

That’s okay, though.

We all like to be lied to.

I had friends

But I got awkward looks, too

For some reason

It is still something I think about

We talk about it

How I changed so much

And lost so much because of it

Sometimes I cry and cannot explain it

I feel as though I am missing something

Confidence, an identity

Growing up with rejection on the mind

There is no exact when or why,

but the ‘energetic’

(translation: obnoxious)

girl lost it,

that spunk.

Looking back,

I admire that girl.

People are not too kind, though.

Rejection of who you are,

there was not enough spunk to clean that wound.

The scar is still there;

it aches from time to time.

I like to hear of the time before the loss.

I think that little girl could have really been something.

The leftovers of the vitality that once existed

are like a riverbank,

eroding away with time.

The water is unforgiving and unmerciful.

It has its own rules

and those who can’t play the game either sit on the bench or leave the team.

Which is better?

On the bench is painful,

you witness the good players

and wonder why you can’t be one.

Those that leave preserve the essence,

but lose connection and face being alone.

Then those that play, is it just show?

Over time a mask develops.

Imitation.

Look around,

pick the strategies you would most like to use

and be known for.

At first it’s unnatural,

but over time,

it is like a well-worn glove.

Pride in learning the rules and playing the game.

No longer special.

Just a normal kind of weird.

It’s okay, there is some happiness.

When alone the mask can drop,

it can be work at times,

but it has almost entirely taken over

that essence.

I wonder what it thinks.

It would probably disapprove,

but then again,

it probably understands.

Once in awhile there are snatches of that girl,

or at least I like to think so;

it might just be a part of the show.

Even with the show’s cover it is hard to connect.

Have meaningful relationships

Rejection, never been able to get over it.

Continue to keep people at a distance.

A surface person.

Jaded.

Sarcastic.

Emotionally detached.

But they just don’t see my tears,

I don’t let them.

I don’t want them to see it.

The thing that causes rejection.

I like it.

I don’t want it to be hurt again.

It’s mine.

There’s enough happiness in that.

There has to be.

As long as they don’t see me.