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How does my difference make you feel?
Go on.
Why don’t you tell me?
Are you looking for it with your questions?
With your eyes?
Ears?
Heart?
Seek and you shall find it.
I am the kid lacking designer clothes.
Because my Mum smokes crystal meth.
I am shyness.
I am anxiety.
I am the religion that is not yours.
I am an empty cup to you.
Poised to receive your contempt.
Leaving the house is my Everest.
And facing you is my Eiger.
‘Which school did you go to?’
‘You’re not gay are you?’
‘Ohhh…right…’
‘So you’re foreign.’
‘Wait, you’re not foreign?’
‘Oh my gosh, you’re a gypsy?’
‘Like an actual gypsy?’
‘Wow.’
‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Oh look.’
‘There’s that girl that cannot talk right.’
‘Because her teeth are so goddamn huge.’
‘But mainly it’s because she’s so fucking dumb.’
‘Everyone around here knows that.’
‘Why? I guess because I told them so.’
Yeah. Of course you did.
Hatred of difference begets gossip.
Hatred of difference begets pain.
Hatred of difference begets murder.
Hatred of difference begets war.
Do any of us really need any more of that?
Should we just put it on our shopping list for the week?
And to hell with it?
Gossip, pain, murder, war, biscuits.
Shredded pork and shredded people.
No thanks I’m on a torment free diet.
But I need your hate to explain itself to me,
Reveal it’s bitter source.
Can you tell me why you must elevate yourself?
On rusted scaffolding of heartless cruelty?
Because you’re better, is it hey?
Because you’re richer?
Sexier?
More influential?
No. It’s bloody not.
I’ll tell you why it is.
Because you’re weak.
Because you’re shallow.
And rather than hate you,
I try to avoid,
Becoming what you have become.
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