I Used To

I used to think I was a fighter.
I used to think I was a man.
I used to think I was the greatest story teller.
I used to think fact was fiction.
Or was it ... ?

I used to see people as shadows,
I used to think hands were a fist.
I used to hate rules and boundaries,
I used to have everything missed.

I used to feel thin and intelligent,
I used to be hard and secure.
I used to lead gangs and sound elloquent,
I even decided to score.

I used to play sports and go out in the sun,
I used to ride bikes and build dens.
I used to create ways for friends to have fun,
And I used to get trapped in dead ends.

I used to think I was not wanted.
I used to be insecure.
I used to be violent.
I used to think I was gay.

I used to have no idea what a Mother was,
I used to despise a Father.
I used to see God as a boss who I'd prove myself to.
What else is there to say?

I wasn't gay. I wasn't hard. I wasn't sick, I wasn't a fool. I wasn't easy, I wasn't stupid.I wasn't clever, I wasn't the one, I wasn't stuck, I wasn't a guy and I wasn't alone.

I was George, I was planned, I was given to a Man, I was woman, I was smart enough to do what needed to be done, I was able to have fun, I was able to think for myself, I was able to enjoy human company, I was healed, I was set free. I could feel the wind on my face and hear birdsong. The warmth of a spring evening caused me to stretch out my toes as I lay on the bed, in the shade of the blood-red curtain.

Free to live, not to rely on a moment in the past when it all become so clear.
Free to walk onward, feeling pain and joy, anger and happiness, sadness and authority within and without. A struggle of worthy motion. Mud feels alive when it's squirting between trudging toes.

I used to be a chance waiting to spin and just happen.
Just take place.
Lust, desire, self pity, anger, resentment
Finally giving in and wondering why this 'peace' feels so ... empty?
Like a timebomb waiting to explode and take my life.

I chose no accidental stream of situations.
I chose something else.
Trudge, mud, squirt, ow.
There's that wind - I am alive.
I hurt, because I live.
There was blood on my hands and I chose to wipe it off.
Given the choice - wade in or wipe,I wiped.
Someone was still right.
I cried, I lamented,
Someone was still right.
I chose to follow Him.
I chose to believe.

Stay in the stream, because I used to be a lake and lakes don't run, they just dry up.