random poem of fate

I can't really say for sure

First I was suffocating under literary language

Rhetorical rhymes

Teachers forced it into every orifice 

My memory might be foggy but

First I was six

First there were no boundaries

No limits to the written word

First I saw friends at the library 

First I lived between the shelves

First was a brutal honesty only elementary-level kids hold at the tip of their tongue

On the tip of their Ticonderogan pencils

First, yes, the poetry wasn't my choice

But the consensus was that our mouths overflowed with dialogue

That we could say it anywhere

Then I was twelve

Then there were so many boundaries

Countless limits

Then my pencil was forced onto paper

Then my mouth was forced to keep quiet

Comply with the general sentiment of all secondary-level kids

Then the oppressive hold came from notes under desks

Then I was full of conformity

Then I was the only kid at the library

Then I stopped standing between shelves

I started curling up in bed 

Then I started closing the blinds

Now I am seventeen

Now there are still boundaries

Now there are still days with closed blinds 

And curled up souls

But now there are contests to enter

Now there are poetry slams to place third in

Now there are literary magazines to publish work in

Now there's a reason to remember who I am again

Now the notes under desks no longer have a say

Now I have a say

My mouth overflowing with dialogue

I could say it anywhere.