The Cocoon

I've always dreamed
Of being a dad
Not because I want a legacy,
Or a carbon copy of me

The same reason good parents want children
To give them better than I had

Not to say my parents weren't good
Because I think they did a fantastic job

It was just the little things
Those inevitable truths
Those lies we tell ourselves
To make the pain
     In our parents eyes sooth

Like, "I don't like boys"
"Football's not that bad I guess"
"It doesn't matter if they understand"
"This is the way I like to dress"

I remember when I was fourteen
In told my Dad
I didn't want to play football anymore
His face turned red and he screamed
Rage directed right at me,
And as he ranted and swore
It was the disappointment in his voice
That haunted me most.
I had made my choice,
         And he choked

That's the tragic thing
About being put in a box
Along with so many fictional perfections
The scalpel gleams
As they begin their dissection  
Of all your flaws
Cutting Jesus in your heart
And smiles in your jaws

Each fault is another cut they think they can make,
But the human spirit is something they can't shake
We can take it
      We can make it,
  But the scars remain

Because we aren't the same

I use to hate it when my parents said,
"I don't get you"
Maybe it's because you didn't try
You sat back with judgmental eyes,
And called me strange,
    As if I didn't hear that enough already

But this isn't a stanza for pity
Just the overture
     Because I didn't change
I stayed different
     I stayed strange

You see we're born to break are parents hearts
To shatter the image they had from the start
Breaking out of those boxes like butterflies
         From a cocoon of lies

They don't hate us
They don't want us to fail
And they think if we make their mistakes

We will,
   But we need those mistakes
We need to learn how to stand
   As the earth quakes
Beneath feet that they'll always see
   As two inches long
And one inch wide

They think we'll end up on drugs,
And some of us will
   Sometimes giving ourselves
To the power of a pill
To take the edge off the perfection

That standard hey held us to
When some of us come unglued

There's always more glue

We are no fragile things
Building wings
  In our cocoon

Hard like diamonds
Scars on our hearts and arms
Entering the world
With a terrified,
          "Boom"

That explosion

When we aren't around and they miss us
Not that image they had in their head
The real us,
   I don't want that to be my children's end

Seeing me every other weekend
As my hair turns grey,
    And I fade
Growing a little more fragile
My wings drooping every day

I want them to know that I'll try
To see them as a person,
      And I
Won't be one of the faceless masses
Calling them strange
    Calling them weird
 I'm going to be their man
There rock
  I want to try to understand
Their mistakes
  Like horrifying works of art

I want to play my part
Not at their friend
Not as their opposition
But as their Dad.

That's the secret you know
When they look up above
    We're gods in child's eyes
Let their gods be of love.

Amen