When I Shine
When I was made
The Good Lord rubbed my face to give it shape
But he formed a callus
That's how my face was made.
Ugly… is that what everyone thought when they saw her? That's what she thought. So many names… mute… albino… Cyclops… was everyone scared of her? Or was it… him? Him…
Oh, Sweet,
Change me.
Teach me to think like they do.
Teach me to think - like you.
Oh, how she longed to be like him… she somehow thought that hanging round with him could change her. But it was more of the same… flunkie, they said when they saw her now. Sidekick. She wanted to fit in, think like everyone else. At first.
When I was made
The Good Lord filled my veins up with silt
From the river.
That's why my blood runs cold.
People often told her she was cold. Truth be told, she didn't think too much of herself, so why should everyone else be exempt from that rule? There was one exception, however. Him. He made her feel better, more like a real person and not as everyone else seemed to see her- a monster. But there was no denying that her blood ran cold. And she had no problem with it.
He says I'm sweet
Change me.
Teach me to think like they do.
Teach me to think - like you.
Sweet… she didn't want to be called sweet, thank you very much. She sighed. He would never notice her, at least in the way she wanted him to. Attraction… was it something reserved for 'normal' people? Normality… him and the girls he dated. Well, she thought bitterly, 'dated' was not really the right expression. More like 'screwed'. She wanted to be like him. Carefree, beautiful. That was not something even he could teach her.
When I was made
The Good Lord stretched my skin across a frame
Like Canvas
That's how my sense is numb
She'd learned to ignore them, the names and stares. Numb, someone had once called her. That was a familiar feeling. Empty, so was that. She wondered if she was beautiful on the inside. She sincerely doubted it…inner beauty did not, in her mind, equal actual beauty. It just signaled ignorance. Ignorance on the part of these shallow people too wrapped up in themselves to look even a little deeper. But him…he was different, she told herself. He understood. Although he'd never feel the way she did. Could she feel? For him, yes. For him, anything.
He says I'm sweet.
Change me.
Drain my colour,
Leave me Grey.
Grey… her colour. Blank, anonymous. Unassuming. Uncaring. She was the embodiment of grey. Colour corresponded with beauty, something that she was sure she didn't possess. But there was one thing… she had her Posse. They were enough colour for anyone. Her secret love, strong and vibrant, exciting and dangerous was coequal to red, and her best friend, bright, calming, bumbling and loveable was like yellow. See? She had colour in her allies. She was better off grey. Gods knew that she never stood out from the two huge personalities and bigger egos that she hung out with. And she was better off that way. In some strange way, it made her feel…normal.
There are too many moths around
When I shine.
© Louise Johnson 2001
Lyrics from 'How I Was Made' by Kenickie.
