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there is a wild thrashing in my body a reckless abandon for which there is no appeasement -- DO YOU HEAR IT I AM COMING FOR YOU, YOU WITH THE WEATHERED EYES AND THE WIZENED SOUL -- an untamable heart beats itself over and over against the spaces of my lungs, a staccato rhythm of breathing flesh, until it is bruised purple and pink and you cannot tell which is heart and which is hurt.
i do what i can and carry on anyway.
there is a fire in my veins, an unfathomable wretched thing that simply refuses to be put out -- JUST BECAUSE I AM YOUNGER DOES NOT MEAN I DO NOT KNOW WHAT SUFFERING & ANGUISH & PAIN & HARDWORKING MEAN -- hatred glistens in my eyes, hard and cold, because you do not understand me and perhaps, you never will. i wipe away the tears before they can fall.
they shouldn't be shed for the likes of you.
so i sit in this silence, watching as it devours me whole -- you are not just a spectator; you are the maestro of this gruesome ritual -- LOOK LOOK LOOK DO YOU SEE IT DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE -- my youth shatters around my feet, a shimmering explosion of playgrounds and dust bunnies and imaginary things; you laugh at me with such derision because you do not know the sacrifices i have made for you, that you do not understand at all what i had to go through to stand here today.
DO NOT DISCOUNT MY YOUTH.
the words are bitter in my mouth, sitting there like a lead weight; they will not escape this time, not now -- maybe not ever.
and my broken youth is sharp against my skin, digging in until i see red dripping down my neck and down my spine and until it has destroyed me whole.
and even then, my mouth stays sewn shut.
DO NOT DISCOUNT MY YOUTH, i cry, but it lays slain all around me, shards of childhood trembling in your wake.
i do not have to look to know you have done it anyway --
