This is another Paris poem — I guess they are a series of sorts.
There will probably be more after this one — please write me and
tell me if you like them, and would like more.
While `Through The Eyes Of An Observer’ was from Janeway’s point of
view (But you knew that, right? :D), this is from Paris himself.
2. Please Believe In Me
By Jessica Ferroni
I’m trying — don’t they know that?
I’m trying my hardest for them. For me.
Maquis. Traitor. Rebel. The Admiral’s son.
Would sell out his best friend for a couple
strips of gold pressed latinum.
Don’t they know? Don’t they know what I’m
really like, who I really am?
Of course not. Who’d take a moment to look?
Captain Janeway did. I owe her, I know.
She saved me from myself, back in New
Zealand. I was so deep in despair, so lost
without a chance for ever fixing my life.
I think she knew that, too. That was why
she put up with me in the penal colony,
arrogant as I was — or pretended to be.
Am I really that arrogant?
No. I’m not. Yeah, I guess I get a little
full of myself sometimes. Okay, more than
a little, I admit it.
But, truth to be told, I’m not that arrogant.
Betcha didn’t know that, Chakotay.
And you know what else, Chakotay? I’m scared.
I think that deep down inside, I’m afraid.
And that scares me.
No, not afraid of the dark, not afraid
of dying. Afraid that I’m never going to
fit in here. And knowing that I never
will.
Maquis to Starfleet. Starfleet to the Maquis.
It’s an endless circle — never stopping,
never pausing to take a breath.
Seventy-five years is a long time.
Sometimes I don’t think it would matter
what I did. Save the ship, give my life for
the crew, whatever. Still a traitor. Still
never belonging anywhere.
But then, just when I start to despair,
someone comes along and makes me believe
in myself again. The captain, Kes, B’Elanna….
Oh, B’Elanna. How is it, Maquis that you are,
and with that temper of yours, how is it that
you still fit in better than me, than I ever
will?
And not with just the Maquis, either. You are
beautiful, B’Elanna. Not just on the outside, but
on the inside as well. I do love you, you know.
….I wish you did know, `Lanna.
Someday you will.
End.
© Copyright October 1996 Jessica Ferroni
Evenstar17@hotmail.com. (My abbreviated copyright) 🙂