You Tell Me

want to know me?
can you handle it?
i want to be me,
but, is that possible?
i can't walk much,
you tell me.
i see the world as black,
and with lots of blame.
in ways i was born,
words can't explain,
how i feel,
in a world that don't acepts
people who are different.
kind of sad.
how can you accept yourself,
when the world still use labels?
you tell me,
when will the world stop judging?
when we had enough?
call me weak,
i don't care,
you don't know what i go through.
day after day,
wondering when my day will come.
when i can be myself,
without worries or judgement,
i want to be me,
because you still don't know me.

by mona martinez

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