-
a boy in the hallways,
brown hair,
green eyes,
clutching his books.
"Hey, Smartass!"
you yell.
it hurts when he turn around,
already knowing it was you,
you see it in his eyes,
the recognition--
the fear.
he mumbles words,
i can't hear them,
my heart breaks.
a sick part though,
the part you've beaten to a monster,
is relieved.
relieved i'm not the victim,
relieved i'm not hurt,
relieved i'm alright.
i'm
a
very
sick
person.
-
there's another part,
a monster inside me,
something that separates me
from myself.
it's somber now,
but sometimes,
very very rarely,
it'll emerge.
the rage.
it'll boil in my veins,
churning and churning,
awaiting its awakenings.
and once it's awake,
only pain,
will make it,
go away.
-
"Don't fucking touch him!
You asshole!"
my voice-
no,
the monsters' voice,
is loud,
shrill,
angry.
everyone in the hallways stare,
they back away from me,
and closer to you.
you walk towards me,
i stand my ground.
you slap me,
i close my fist.
"What'd you say, bitch?"
i swing.
it connects to your jaw,
a right hook,
powerful and full force.
the thing about being fat,
is that you can say all the words you want,
but when it comes to fighting?
one punch,
and your out.
you hit the ground--
slam into it really--
hard.
everyone is speechless,
so am i,
the monster slithers inside me,
goes back into its cage,
and locks the door.
now
i
am
the
only
one
left.
-
the boy turns to me,
and i see it.
he is not grateful,
instead he comes over to me,
shoves me,
kicks me.
i curl over,
coughing up blood.
you walk over to me,
i almost want to laugh,
this whole scene,
was your plan.
black spots appear,
there's an ache in my heart--
a n d
t h e n
i
l e t
g o