“You Aren’t Gonna Be One of Those Kids Who Complain About Their Childhood, Are you?”
Location
Yes, I will be. Yes, I am.
Yes, screw you,
You were not there.
You were in prison.
Remind me, why your Mia self can be snarky,
Questioning me as if I tasted
Like dog shit.
I don’t care if you tell me to
Get over it, or
That I can take it
Because in order to do either of those,
I need to let it go-
Much like you need to do with alcohol-
I must realize my addiction, yes?
My addiction, no.
Let me remind you
Of the marks slashed on my skin
From not knowing what other knew-
I was book smart,
But I couldn’t grasp them in my mind
Like I could my hands.
Look at me-
The person you named,
And trained to walk
Too early for my own good.
Look at my house-
Falling apart with the mind who owns it.
People ask me, “how do you do it”
And I tell them, I don’t.
I can’t, really.
It’s not quite possible,
Just out of reach-
Like when you swim towards the Sun
At the beach.
So deep a space to fall,
So far a space to go.
Don’t criticize me for what you see,
Because when you see all of me
You’ll notice how I play against myself,
Different nerves sounding
Splendid notes
Of love, need, agony, and hatred.
You tell me I didn’t have it so bad, but
You don’t know what I had-
Really, what I usually didn’t have.
Like food, and water-
Clothes that fit.
You don’t realize that the stories we share-
All several of us, are true.
She did take care of everyone of us,
Almost didn’t graduate high school.
He was left alone,
Now his ear is deaf from a mechanical pencil
His step-father was too busy drinking beer to see.
And her? She will never tell you
About the thoughts she would colour on her wrists
From the insults spewed like poverty
I still constantly fucking hear directed at me-
And I have really exploded
It just hasn’t shown yet,
Because the light of my blast
Can only travel so fast to reach you
Especially, when I don’t want it to.