What I Want

I want you to
understand the fine print
of my name,
to see me just this way,
wandering and wondering
if I were ever truly a child

I want you to know
that I can fall asleep to music,
but cannot dream through the static

to know that I
have lived to see my childhood
turned to taxidermy,
staged to seem natural,
but nature is not
rigor mortis on display

I want you to see
that I am attempting violently
to understand,
I wanted to be human
only to deny part of myself

I want you to notice
the same uneasiness in
their astonished eyes,
the same stares of disbelief,
to feel the shameless injustice
rising to your lips,
to realize it is in vain,
give up,
and turn away

I want you to feel the confusion
when a feast waits for you
and you realize you aren't hungry,
to feel the icy alienation,
the distances and empty spaces between,
to feel whole and good and right,
and to know,
to know,
they see you as an accident,
repressed,
or frigid

I want you to know
the sensation of peering into
your own cold reflection,
and knowing anything you see is wasted,
to see your very face as a contradiction,
to despise every inch of your skin

I want you to feel the terrifying let down,
after realizing your definitions
don't line up,
to know that others do not know,
to misunderstand and be misunderstood

I just want you to know,
and feel, and see
what I do,
so I may understand and be understood