The Saints Of Mibba
I Suppose Not.
Have you ever felt like you just didn’t belong?
I don’t mean that you dressed different, liked different music, liked the same gender.
I mean, different.
Like somehow, somewhere, someone messed up along the line - God (oh god, how you hate God) – switched your soul with someone, perhaps?
As if you weren’t meant to be here at all – not in this body, in this family, in this life?
No. I suppose not.
--
Have you ever felt like nobody understood you?
I don’t mean pathetic teen angst, fights with parents, with friends, with teachers.
I mean completely and utterly estranged.
Like if they could get into your mind, they’d pack your bags for you and send you away?
Like if you asked them to imagine the worst, ugliest, most painful thing in the entire world, it still wouldn’t come close to the depths of your mind?
No. I suppose not.
--
Have you ever felt like everything they say about you is true?
I don’t mean the occasional ‘bitch.’; a murmur of an insult or a fickle curseword.
I mean, heard them speak in hushed whispers, voices laced with pure and utter hatred.
Been told that you were a disgusting piece of shit, that you didn’t deserve to exist, that you should just fucking die?
Had the tears slapped away from your face, and not know any more of those tears were from the pain of the beatings, or from the pain of being ‘the freak that wants to be a man’?
No. I suppose not.
--
Have you ever looked in the mirror and felt sick?
I don’t mean disliked your looks, disliked your acne, your hair, your weight.
I mean, felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.
Run hands over fast-forming mounds of breasts, and shuddered?
Peered down, thin waist, daintily rounded hips, and felt hot tears spill over your eyelids and down your cheeks?
Have you ever felt that maybe, just perhaps, you weren’t meant to be a girl?
No. I suppose not.
I don’t mean that you dressed different, liked different music, liked the same gender.
I mean, different.
Like somehow, somewhere, someone messed up along the line - God (oh god, how you hate God) – switched your soul with someone, perhaps?
As if you weren’t meant to be here at all – not in this body, in this family, in this life?
No. I suppose not.
--
Have you ever felt like nobody understood you?
I don’t mean pathetic teen angst, fights with parents, with friends, with teachers.
I mean completely and utterly estranged.
Like if they could get into your mind, they’d pack your bags for you and send you away?
Like if you asked them to imagine the worst, ugliest, most painful thing in the entire world, it still wouldn’t come close to the depths of your mind?
No. I suppose not.
--
Have you ever felt like everything they say about you is true?
I don’t mean the occasional ‘bitch.’; a murmur of an insult or a fickle curseword.
I mean, heard them speak in hushed whispers, voices laced with pure and utter hatred.
Been told that you were a disgusting piece of shit, that you didn’t deserve to exist, that you should just fucking die?
Had the tears slapped away from your face, and not know any more of those tears were from the pain of the beatings, or from the pain of being ‘the freak that wants to be a man’?
No. I suppose not.
--
Have you ever looked in the mirror and felt sick?
I don’t mean disliked your looks, disliked your acne, your hair, your weight.
I mean, felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.
Run hands over fast-forming mounds of breasts, and shuddered?
Peered down, thin waist, daintily rounded hips, and felt hot tears spill over your eyelids and down your cheeks?
Have you ever felt that maybe, just perhaps, you weren’t meant to be a girl?
No. I suppose not.