One day you will see
All that I tried to be.
Through all of the mistakes,
Discarding the problem's I left in my wake,
Seeing what I truly tried to be.
I really did want this to work,
Running before I walked; smiling before I learned to smirk.
Getting ahead to change the game that I constantly played . . .
I always did try and dance through the flame.
Always getting ahead, then retracing the steps back,
Anticipating the fictionalised attack.
I just wanted to somebody to not always see through me,
To only grasp what I continually pretended to be.
One day, I know you will hate me for this.
Hate me for causing this mess, hating me because I exist.
And I'm okay with that,
Because I will too one day see and fall flat,
Loathing what I have become,
Knowing what I can never escape from. . . .
. . . Today, I saw what you see in me,
And I have to agree,
Anybody would enjoy hating the life
That represented all we don't want to be—a rusted, useless knife.
I am someone who should not exist
In either world, because I resist.
Challenging you and everything you want to make people become . . .
Robots, monkeys, pieces of flesh that just succumb,
Never willing to fight back.
One day, you will see all that I have tried to be.
And today, you will hate me for being . . .
Being all that you see in your face today—someone free.
29 October 2006