THE SCUM AT THE BOTTOM

Here in the dark,

we, the scum at the bottom

still remain.

We, the tortured souls,

abused and abandoned-

left to never heal.

Neglected and dejected,

those that society's rejected.

We kick and scream and flail,

and all of us proclaim:

"No me! Pick me! I swear I'm not like the other scum!

I swear I still have the light of the world in my heart!

I can still be human again if given half a chance!

I'm special, I swear it!

Just take my hand and pull me out,

maybe I can still be something good... I really am special.."

And remarkably, all of us are right.

All of us are special,

and all of us still have the light of the world hidden beneath our scars.

But left or taken the fate is always the same,

at the end of the day

whether today or tomorrow or even the day after that,

in the end we're back to the beginning,

bitter and hurt as before,

as the scum at the bottom once more.

We the scum at the bottom

who curl up in corners and cry our days away,

slicing at our skin with blades or flames,

or even tearing at it with our fingernails...

attempting to free ourselves from this body,

the host of our selves within this realm of pain...

watching the bullets and blades break us again and again in our minds..

perhaps like the air of a balloon we can escape from our bodies

through one little vent,

and be free to roam amongst the clouds.

Or perhaps it doesn't matter,

because even if we don't set ourselves free,

the abrasions and incisions allow us to feel pain-

and that's better than feeling nothing,

and is better than feeling the REAL pains.

The pains of being rejected, unwanted, abandoned, used...

So yes, let us cover them up with our little miniscule pains.

Let us degrade ourselves physically...

for what is life without wanting to live,

at least this way we can forget about not wanting to live.

But every now and again,

by some strange stroke of luck,

two pieces of scum whose twisted worlds match

collide against the astronomical odds

and smile at each other.

Each feeling wanted, each feeling something other than rejection,

and each feeling like we have a place in the puzzle after all.

Once beyond the niceties that society has imbued within us

we delve into the realms of reality;

where souls make love and colors soar.

There we can see each other as we really are,

together inside our twisted world-

and we feel a certain kinship that no others can match,

an "I am you and you are me" kind of interlocking.

Love grasps us from the very seat of our emotions- our heart,

and pumps its way around our system,

affecting every essence of our being,

until even the most flaccid and debilitated of our cells become turgid with happiness.

At which point, unable to hold it in any longer,

the words "I love you" burst forth from our swelling mouth

and our hearts beat like racehorses',

a pair of kites running to oblivion holding hands-

but together.

And there is no rejection, just love and acceptence

and the converging of lips.

So inlies the creation of pair well matched to last forevermore.

So take heart and don't give up and don't give in,

for while life's no fairytale (it's been ruined too much for that),

it can still end in a special fairytale just for us...

the scum at the bottom of society.

And believe me, these fairytales do come true.