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Unattainable innocence
Such a temptation. Innocent, untouched, unblemished beauty.
Unattainable. Just out of my grasp. Constantly reaching out to ensnare it within my fingertips
and barely brushing the feather light tendrils.
Disappointment and discouragement cause my skin to tingle and burn. My eyes well up with
invisible tears nobody sees and with cried that no one seems to hear.
Love me for my accomplishments. Love me for my admirable qualities. Love me for my faults. Love
me for the scars that exist as much under my flesh as much as it does where you can see. Love
me for the blood running through my veins as much as you do for the tears flowing down my face.
Love me for my dreams…the ones alive and the ones that lie in shards underneath my feet.
“It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”
That’s what they say, right?
Then why is the world so judgmental? Why is it that someone wearing all black and someone
wearing colorful clothes walking down the street can receive completely different reactions?
Why is it that sexual preference can cause one person to be well-liked and another to be
assaulted with words and accusations as well as with fists?
If we live in such a prejudicial state, then why is it such a surprise we see ourselves in the
light that we do? Why is it that waking up in the morning is such an effort? And making it
through the stares and the whispers and the bullying from others as well as yourself such a
battle? Why is society so shocked that some feel the need to perfect themselves or find some
kind of release or attempt any kind of escape possible to get away from such a horrible state
of living and mentality?
Nothing surprises me anymore.
© Kathy Anne Harrell, June 2005
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