Headstall's Reflections - 70. Chapter 70 Twelve in 1966

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Twelve in 1966

I’m glad our youth

Are allowed to feel hope

And love openly

Even run for president

If they choose

Not the case

In my time

One of inner torture

When love was illegal

Condemned as indecent

Grouped with bestiality

And pedophilia

By all the 'decent' folk

Ingrained in many

And there was no escaping

The hatred

Innocent desire sullied

It was a curse

That fed on pious bullshit

Remaining unfulfilled

Or distorted by fear

That pain… the pain

Of my era

Still has its way with me

For I obliged the need to hide

The best parts of myself

From the best parts of life

When mere existence

Seemed my only option

And burgeoning love

Lay unrequited

Suffocated

Beneath chains

I hadn’t the strength to lift

Twelve in 1966

My future bleak

And walls growing tall

Where was I to turn?

There was no safe place

Not for me

But then

As I remember it

There never had been

And it was one more thing

Piled on adolescent shoulders

So I betrayed myself

And carry the shame

The world has come a ways

That’s true

But I still wear my yoke

Oh, you can’t see it

But it’s there

Trust me

Ingrained

And it can still pull me back

Into that harness

Stitched with fear

And searching for words

Is to delve into

A misery whose echoes

Never die

I am thankful

For the young

Who can allow the inside out

And stand proud

Without fearing death

Or sadistic monsters

Who would hunt down

Ridicule

Maim

Violate… even castrate

Yes, that happened…

Or be ostracized

For something

Not a choice, but intrinsic

No longer the need

To control a thirst

So powerful

It parches your soul

And leaches your identity

To the point

You don’t know who you are

Yes, I am happy for the young

And I’m happy for me now

… I am…

But those echoes are still there

Repercussions

Like a million steel pins

In fractured bones

Holding me in place

And forever a part of me

I chose safety

Plotted a different course

Fooled myself

Turned away

And lived

Like so many

Born too soon

But the costs?

Not so easily added up, my friends

And only I know what I paid

And what I lost

Epilogue: Doctor Balero

I remember when my path

Took a violent turn

After my heartbeats rebelled

Going wacky from a burden

I refused to acknowledge

… years of pretending it didn’t matter…

Until the day I fell apart

After some gentle pushing

And skillful urging

Ending up on the floor

Of a professional’s office

Crying almost thirty years of tears

… screaming until no voice was left

While a stranger held me

Because I couldn’t fool myself any longer

Doctor Balero wouldn’t let me

It was the day all my parts entered the light

Thrust from their little boxes

And I began the journey to me

*

Yeah, definitely self-indulgent. But, I posted it anyway.