I Was Raised to Be a Clone

I was raised to be a clone

with no sense of self,

like an appendage,

controlled by another.

Anything that didn’t measure up

to their beliefs, ways, or thoughts

was quickly smashed,

along with me.

I was never free

to become

uniquely

me,

in

their

presence.

And now,

I still have memories

of the pain of being

different and not

measuring up,

of needing

to be

exactly

the

same.

I’ve tried to blend in,

chameleon-like,

but that is death to me.

My sense of self

comes creeping up,

like a shadow coming alive,

but then, I become afraid

and try to stomp it out,

just like what

was done

to me.

I don’t want to be a murderer,

but I am so afraid,

that if I am so different,

I will be rejected,

again and again,

as I have been,

from time immemorial.

I’m continually told,

I should be different,

fit this mold,

or else,

I will not love you,

I will not be with you,

I will not talk to you,

I will not hug you.

Apparently,

the choice

to be

me

is

very,

very,

very

lonely.

Precious Linda, c. 2013