the truth

I never had a word for what it always felt like

as a kid I wondered if I was adopted.

It wasn't belief that I wasn't where I came from

just a lingering question if there was somewhere I'd be better suited.

I idolized the cartoon hero in Disney's Hercules,

watching him long for a place that felt like him.

I saw him as a mirror for my queasies (and any other name for misgivings)

Every time he sang "I can go the distance"

I thought for sure I could too

if only I knew why I didn't feel like I was there.

If only I knew why I didn't feel like where I was was where I liked.

Then I'd have my chance.

Then I'd know what to do.

Anyway, it doesn't take much to grow up.

All you have to do is wait.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Less is more. The more years pass, the less you have.

Have you ever felt like you didn't belong,

like you weren't like everyone else?

If you say yes you're lying,

that's my reality, not yours.

How can you tell a poem like this is unfiltered?

All writing is a lie. All of it is cultivated.

i prefer writing to speaking.

it's easier for intention to be understated.

you can't take back a spoken word but I can delete paragraphs of content.

Mountains of comments exposing what I really think

flushed down the digital drain, washed down the simulated sink.

Sinking feelings, that's what it all amounts to.

Sometimes your anxieties come true and you feel justified.

Sometimes they sit there waiting for the other shoe to drop,

waiting to confirm that "reality" lied.

It's a joke, and my comedian dreams never came true.

Stand up comics are performers too, just like me.

I hate it when other people are like me.

You don't know for sure if I'm telling the truth.

This whole "poem" could be another character for me to play.

Anyway, I'm bad at rhyming.