electric

I’m a freak to them. I am electric and dangerous. They whisper and sneer as I stroll on by, but I look at them and wave. I smile and burn their souls with my brilliance because they expect me to cower and cringe at their glaring eyes. Difference is an explosive on a balanced scale. It can work for you or against you but control is the key. As one you are lighter than all of them combined. They will tip. They will burst into a million shards of crystal; completely transparent. But if you are full of shame and wear a heavy heart on your protective sleeve then you become transparent. I control the scale. Every new school I start out as an assumed easy target. I don’t blame their poor ignorant minds for choosing me. However, I quickly become a moving target and their muscles begin to sting and ache with exhaustion. Their arrows quiver and the beads of sweat bite at their eyes. In one blink, I am gone. I am no longer a target. They are mice in my cage now. I dangle them by the tail until they realize that I am not going to harm but I am surely not going to be harmed. They sniff at my face and eat from my hand. They greet me when I pass and giggle, not at my appearance, but at my jokes. I am still a freak but I have instilled them with knowledge and extraordinary power. Power to be kind and helpful; power to be empathetic; power to step outside of the box and fly; power to be different; power to be electric.