I am an Alien

Alone. That is how I have felt for the last decade of my life. Don't take me wrong, I have always had a huge population of people surrounding me at all times. People that I can't seem to form that tiny but taut thread of bond with. There is a huge chasm of differences between them and me. Difference in beliefs, difference in upbringing, difference in how they believe an ideal life should be led. And these unresolved differences has had caused me to retreat within myself. To make best friends with no one, but me.

Although I've quieted down immensely over the years, I am brimmed with retaliations just waiting to be screamed out. Quiet outside, but very loud inside. I talk through words, poetry. Where I mask my feelings behind layers and layers of phrases. I talk through paintings, where the colors merge into one another as bright turns into darkness. I talk through the screen, where social media hides my true identity. Does anyone hear me at all?

Sometimes I sit in a room full of people, my mask so secured with a smile and glow I can fool myself. But there is a thick wall between them and me. I can see them, but not hear them. I can touch them, Not feel them. I can talk to them but never understand them. 

Every human around me lives on a different frequency than me. What excites them, depresses me. They talk about mundane subjects, things that I don't even bother paying attention to. Clothes, food, family gossip. Typical girl talk. But I'm a girl and I don't talk typical. There views are restricted to a narrow path, while I keep jumping over the pavement on to the 'forbidden' ways. Thoughts that never escape my lips in fear of being despised. And those thoughts just as easily slide on to that part of my brain where it keeps repeating itself over and over again till it's heard. Heard by me. Expressed in written words. Writings that are hidden from that world, and exposed to Him.

Yet when I go back to my land, I feel like I belong there. Then why snatch me away from my base? Why de-home me? Why drag me to stand in front of heartless people and take on the firing squad? Why make me believe that they love me when all they are are back stabbers? Why force me to live what I'm not? Why?

Only confusion and silence echoes in response. As it always does.

No one loves an alien.