Utah

If you're not from Utah,
you don't know guilt.
You can't know how your life is
everyone's business but your own.
You don't feel the crushing helplessness
of trying to squish your spirit
into a mold made by old men in another time.
You don't know failure
until  you've failed 
every expectation made for you
by those you love the most;
those who know you the least.
You don't know how good it feels
to leave the village that wanted to make you --
make you marry, make you pray, make you cry,
make you melt away into a mirror of itself,
cracked by the hammering
of expectation and defeat.