Puppet

It's so very strange

Speaking when no one hears

Signing when no one listens

reaching out my hands only for them to be worse than ignored; laughed at, berated, unconventional freak.

I'm not a freak.

At least, I don't think I am.

But there are certain groups of people,

certain sets of reactions

certain words that send shame through my chest

I hide in books because I have no where else to go.

I spent time dreaming about what it was like to have different siblings, different families, different hobbies, different chances, languages, foods, everything.

My life was spent pretending to be some one else, not just the little girl, but the woman on the train, the man in the back of the car, the cat who got to sit around and eat all day.

I never thought that was strange.

And maybe it isn't,

maybe, that's what everyone does

they dream of being someone else

having a different body

a different life

and by the time they look into their own

a bridge has been built between the mind and reality

a puppet plays out every role

yet you no longer have control

all you can do is sit and watch

as your world is torn apart piece by piece

doing nothing, you stand in a corner hoping no one notices you're there

you pull out a book

and become another character

one that feels right.

You take on the skin of a human

and live in a world you've never been to before.

You know everything before it ever happens

yet still, it is better than waking up

it is better than being in reality

because there

you're already gone

you've already lost control

and worse than that

you've lost your soul

forever doomed to live as a puppet

in everyone else's world.