Rejected Transplant

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

My experience growing up poor in small town America.

I've always felt like my hometown and I had an agreement.
It never wanted me and I never wanted it,
And as as soon as I was able to leave,
I would.
 
After all, I'd always just been a kid.
So concerned with what people thought of me,
and whether they'd deigned me fit.
 
Whenever I go back home I feel foreign.
I've always felt like I never should have been there.
I always had this feeling that I was uninvited,
unwanted,
an outsider.
 
When I was a child I remember going into stores with my mom.
Invisible eyes watched us. 
Disgusted, watching our hands, watching our pockets, judging our clothes.
Making my skin threaten to crawl off my bones,
To avoid the pressure of their judgement.
 
I never knew if they were real or not.
 
I can tell you now, the eyes are real.
Maybe it was because we were poor, 
or we were different,
or they wanted us to be more like them.
 
The farther I get from home the safer I feel.
The pressure is gone.
And I can never go back.
 


Submitted: May 15, 2020

© Copyright 2021 downforthespiral. All rights reserved.

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