My family.
I was not the same as them.
I was not the same.
I had green eyes…lean limbs
and I could jump and sprint
and swim in dark lagoons.
And I …. was not the same
as them.
At times they could be cruel
to me. And cold …and sneer.
I always knew that I would have
a solo life…excluded year and year.
And they were savage too…and strong of jaw.
I slid alone into a twilight life…
A bed of straw.
And they were loving too. But under strain.
I always knew that they were them,
And I was me….alone.
I walked a solitary path.
It gave me poetry..it gave me art.
It gave me a boy child.
A love.
My body now, is like
A well worn shoe.
I’m leathery and prone to bruise.
And as death nears its goal
I still know that I
am not the same as them.
But as yet…my spirit still lives on.
To die too soon would leave
too much to lose.
Kristine Byrne.
8am 4th September. 2020