Judged

Photo by Marcelo Brasileiro

I’ve tried this question before,

held it in contempt, and demanded

to be told the answer.

I have never

been to trial against a more persisting

opponent.

How do I plead.

When I walk into a room

I wonder if the people

inside see me, or do they see some

bastard trying to take advantage,

or get them secluded so they can

have their way, an impostor pretending

to be someone else, the vagrant that

skipped out on their child, or some

other form of disgust they happened

upon at some point.

It is always a challenge. When I do

arrive, I take on that coat knowing

I have little choice and can only do

the best I can to dig up something

of my own worth to show and have judged;

which isn’t easy considering I do have

my own bile to keep down.

I sip on my worst fears every day

comfortably, as easy as I wear

the clothes forced upon me. But

regardless this plateful talent it is

odd that I find it troubling

remembering who I am.

I should know better than anyone;

but I’m not the one they see.

They see someone else, and I have no

idea who that person is.

I can read their faces and come close

to the description but it changes

so quickly. If this trial continues

I will be found guilty. I feel guilty.

How can I not, wearing clothes

that people look at as if they were stolen,

and me walking about comfortably

as if there’s nothing wrong to begin with.