Poem "The Beat My Heart Skipped"

 

 

The Beat My Heart Skipped

 

Since day one of my memory

my existence into puberty

I have always marched to my own beat.

And since that exact same day - I've

   always.....

   eventually....

once they get to know me.....

 

been the outcast of the group, unaccepted,

the outsider, the left out, the excluded,

the one not told, clueless as to what's

going on or talked about, the rejected,

the misfit (of the misfits, no less!)

 

They throw words like "anit-social"

or "standoff-ish" like they know me on

the inside (analyze this!)

for if they truly did, they'd throw

words like "self-conscious", "social anxiety",

"fear of not being like or accepted for who I am".

 

Whatever happened to unconditional love & acceptance?

I've always marched to my own beat.

 

For most, a beat is in regards to music.

Has your heart ever skipped a beat?

That beat right there (That NON-beat) is what

I march to.

Maybe that's my problem.

I march to a beat that, if you look at it,

doesn't even exist.

 

I march to nothing.

(so stop marching, idiot!)

*

Veronica

May 2008