I'll stop
Feeling frustrated for that tight knot that I wear like a tie
A manly hand on my shoulders and on my thighs
You wouldn't call them that if I were much smaller
Like a child whose innocence was cut from cold
Polsters, blankets, hugs and kisses from strangers
Place my sense of disconnect out in plain sight
A five-year-old that grows into a twenty-five
You wouldn't call it that, ancestral learning
Like a tie so strong that it feels like home

Come
Come
Come


Concrete, wet crescent
Stay in my feet
Equally in a restless dance
A lighthouse in the distance
Makes me feel like there's a chance
But it's always the lighthouse keeper that spots it first
And like a child
I'm left with patronizing words
And a world's entitlement
I watched everyone get in
Everything they could imagine
How come they know what they want
A wooden bench in a courtroom
Doesn't make me feel calm
My early days misplaced
My early days misplaced
And it's never to be spoken of
And I'm at war with a system that cannot serve like it should
So I'll stop
Feeling frustrated for that tight knot that I wear like a tie
I'm in love with the way I feel
So I think about it
Like my family hand on my shoulders and on my ties
But I'm not
You wouldn't call them that if I were much smaller
But I'm not
But I'm not
But I'm not
Will you let me be forgotten?
You shouldn't call them that
© transcript Emily Beynon