To Be AceMature

How any times have the words been said
‘You don’t know what you’re missing, you don’t know what you’re saying.’
How many times have I heard the laughter
‘You’re young, you’ll understand when you grow up.’
How many times has the question been asked
‘Are you broken, are you human, do you really think it’s normal?’

Maybe I am broken.
But then

Maybe what is broken
Is the way society thinks.
Sex is all important, without that you are not human.

Maybe what is broken
is the competition girls had in my school
to lose their virginity before the others in their class.

Maybe what is broken
is the boys who had to lie about 
their nights just to fit in with their friends.

Maybe what is broken
is the fourteen-year-olds on the pill
‘Ready for the boyfriend when he thinks its time.’

Maybe what is broken
is putting people down
when they admit they are different to you.

Maybe its normal
To question me about myself
But it shouldn’t be.

What is broken
is being sixteen, and bullied
for never having a boyfriend, for never being kissed.
it’s the thought in my head
maybe it is all me
maybe I’m ill, or wrong.
Maybe I will never be whole.

What is broken
Is being twentyone
And being asked by my mother
‘When will you admit your gay
because it’s clear your hiding something, 
Never having a guy.’

What is broken
is telling a friend
and being told that
‘You’re an evolutionary dead end.
You shouldn’t exist, you are pointless
People like you are wrong.’

Maybe what is wrong
is the thought
that without a sex drive,
You cannot live a full life.

Maybe what is broken
is that we seem to teach that 
to our children.
When we should teach them
To be proud
of whoever they are.

The End

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