by Henry Rollins
I know you
You were too short
You had bad skin
You couldn't talk to them very well
Words didn't seem to work
They lied when they came out of your mouth
You tried so hard to understand them
You wanted to be part of what was happening
You saw them having fun
And it seemed like such a mystery
Almost magic
Made you think that there was something wrong with you
You'd look in the mirror trying to find it
You thought that you were ugly
And that everyone was looking at you
So you learned to be invisible
To look down
To avoid conversation
The hours
Days
Weekends
Ah the weekend nights alone
Where were you?
In the basement?
In the attic?
In your room?
Working some job?
Just to have something to do
Just to have a place to put yourself
Just to have a way to get away from them
A chance to get away from the ones that made you feel so strange and ill at ease inside yourself
Did you ever get invited to one of their parties?
You sat and wondered if you would go or not
For hours you imagined the scenarios that might transpire...
They would laugh at you....
If you knew what to do
If you would have the right things on
If they would notice that you came from a different planet
Did you get all brave in your thoughts?
Like you were going to be able to go in there and deal with it
And have a great time?
Did you think that you might be the life of the party?
That all these people were going to talk to you
And you would find out that you were wrong
That you had a lot of friends and you weren't so strange after all?
Did you end up going?
Did they mess with you?
Did they single you out?
Did you find out that you were invited because they thought you were so weird?
Yeah, I think I know you.
You spent a lot of time full of hate
A hate that was pure as sunshine
A hate that saw for miles
A hate that kept you up at night
A hate that filled your every waking moment
A hate that carried you for a long time.
Yes, I think I know you.
You couldn't figure out what they saw in the way they lived.
Home was not "home"
Your room was "home"
A corner was "home"
The place they WEREN'T: That was "home."
I know you.
You're sensitive
And you hide it because you fear getting stepped on one more time
It seems that when you show a part of yourself
That is the least bit vulnerable
Someone takes advantage of you
One of THEM steps on YOU
They mistake kindness for weakness
But you know the difference
You've been the brunt of their weakness for years and strength is something you know a bit about because you had to be strong to keep yourself alive.
You know yourself very well now
And you don't trust people
You know them too well
You try to find that special person
Someone you can be with
Someone you can touch
Someone you can talk to
Someone you won't feel so strange around
And you've found that they don't really exist
You feel closer to people on movie screens
Yeah, I think I know you.
You spend a lot of time day dreaming
And people have made comment to that effect
Telling you that you're "self-involved" and "self-centered."
But they don't know, do they?
About the long night shifts alone
About the years of keeping yourself company
All the nights you wrapped your arms around yourself, so you could imagine someone holding you
The hours of indecision, self doubt, the intense depression, the blinding hate, the rage that made you stagger, the devastation of rejection
Well, maybe they do know
But if they do, they sure do a good job of hiding it
It astounds you at how they can be so smooth
How they seem to pass through life as if life itself was some divine gift
And it infuriates you to watch yourself
With your apparent skill in finding every way possible to screw it up
For you, life is a long trip:
Terrifying and wonderful.
Birds sing to you at night.
The rain and the sun,
The changing seasons are true friends
Solitude is a hard-won ally,
Faithful and patient.
Yeah, I think I know you.