Bildungsroman
I was born,
a child in December,
on a cold night,
of the full moon.
They expected
someone else,
but I came,
fighting my way
out
into the world.
I thought
I was a boy,
or I wanted to be
someone
who could not
be trampled upon
So I cut my hair
and hid my breasts.
I wanted to
be a woman,
so I opened
my arms
to everyone
who came
walking towards
my confusions,
a dark mask
that hid
an invincible purity.
I tried to continue
my act,
but the mask broke
And they saw
a lop sided smile
with tears on
one cheek.
I threw away
my identity
and tried
a new one.
The child of December
Strong, cold and free.
I began to love
who I became,
The leaves fell
on my open hair
and I shook them
with a dreamy toss.
The wind comes in
but this time,
I refuse to stop it
from pushing me
towards
the fields.
The wind doesn't wait,
So it moves away
And I fail to smell
the flowers it carries.
The leaves fall,
and I continue
walking
on the road I chose
for fear of losing my
way
in the deep, cold night.
where the full moon
shone only for a while,
for the child of December.
I was born,
a child in December,
on a cold night,
of the full moon.
They expected
someone else,
but I came,
fighting my way
out
into the world.
I thought
I was a boy,
or I wanted to be
someone
who could not
be trampled upon
So I cut my hair
and hid my breasts.
I wanted to
be a woman,
so I opened
my arms
to everyone
who came
walking towards
my confusions,
a dark mask
that hid
an invincible purity.
I tried to continue
my act,
but the mask broke
And they saw
a lop sided smile
with tears on
one cheek.
I threw away
my identity
and tried
a new one.
The child of December
Strong, cold and free.
I began to love
who I became,
The leaves fell
on my open hair
and I shook them
with a dreamy toss.
The wind comes in
but this time,
I refuse to stop it
from pushing me
towards
the fields.
The wind doesn't wait,
So it moves away
And I fail to smell
the flowers it carries.
The leaves fall,
and I continue
walking
on the road I chose
for fear of losing my
way
in the deep, cold night.
where the full moon
shone only for a while,
for the child of December.
Comments
seems like either an incomplete bildungsroman or a reverse one. I am trying to find out.
(pls allow us poor WP folks to comment with our IDs?)
and the length of your life cant be the reason for an 'incomplete' Bildungsroman. Imagine Hesse's stories all stop after page 52 or something :)
(and i continue to think that you are biased against us WP users - allow only blogspitters to comment?)
i found YOUR display name terribly intersting.
Thanks for visiting my blog.
The girl in the pic is my sis, not me. She had gone with me to the church but was getting very bored as i clicked away.
And yes, i am from Xaviers...as u'd have guessed from one of the statements on the post.
Love what u've written for the December child, though i found it too dark.
I'm an April child... and here is what Ogden Nash has to say...
Always Marry An April Girl
Praise the spells and bless the charms,
I found April in my arms.
April golden, April cloudy,
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy;
April soft in flowered languor,
April cold with sudden anger,
Ever changing, ever true --
I love April, I love you.
:-)
Take care,
visit again
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