1A new sort of journey
So adversely different from the
Emotional pilgrimage you had been desperate to complete.
Being the eldest of the clique
Destined to lead, even if you had no desire to
To assume responsibility for not
Only your mistakes but for theirs as well
The whirring blades forming one rotation after another
Always forward momentum
Heaven forbid you were to slow down
Let alone take a solitary step back.
You gaze back out to this soulless audience
So full of bubbling, unfiltered loathing
Prim and proper,
Prepared to delve far too deep into a world
That you've striven to conceal.
This clandestine environment that no one may peer into
For fear that they will see something, anything
That will have them turning away from you.
An act that would tear you apart
A tidal wave that would drown and rip you to bits
And there is your idol
In the front row,
The man that shares your genes
And quirky sense of humor
Prodding to know, which of these
Mélusine you'll be taking as your bride.
A resounding chorus of the same old song
The words have altered slightly
There are more urgent, more imperative
Soft percent cotton swishes past you leg
Yet you see nothing.
A full auditorium to be auctioned off
Every expression and shade is censored
Any trace of recalcitrance has been
Scraped away, leaving only the conformist's dream:
A full room of primped and decorous
"young women", each lip successfully glossed,
Each eyelash carefully pruned.
You gaze around this surreal enclosure
Curious and skeptical,
But it's all "real"
A carefully sculpted pen resides on
The podium, laden with liquid ebony
The meticulous scrawling perfectly legible
Deciphering your soaring hopes
And consuming fears
I'm waiting for something real
As the room dissolves, your heart plummets
Into the immaculate sensation that you have
Been waiting your entire life for
The realization that love is the
Genuine juxtaposition of finding yourself
So miserable without that soul in your life
That you finally comprehend precisely
What it meant to be happy.