Growing Pains

----Bullying----

Cyber wars, silly name calling games-

Twisted words

spouted by two faced girls!

Worse when the worst is when they whisper hushed comments under Doritos stained tongues about her lack of style, nervous twitches, braces and goofy smile

It’s only a five minute walk but feels like she just ran a mile.

And those words still echo through her head, daily,

Making her mind crazy

She’s been cut down to the bone,

Throwing her of mommy’s little princess throne.  

----Teenage angst----

Where am I from?

I am from the ocean tide.

My mother?

Who was she?

Where is she?

Still lost at the sea where she left me?

Maybe.

I am from another place.

Sometimes alone-

like in outer space.

Ya, minimize and call it “teensage angst” if you must,

But I am NOT coming back,

So don’t worry come dusk.

Feel lost and abandoned without a trace.

Nowhere to hide in such a mysterious rat race,

I can’t keep up the pace.

Who am I?

I am just another number.

860-988-1324- my cell

What a disgrace!

Is a number a person?

008-30-1236- my S.S.

Fuck!

I am so confused.

Where am I from?

I am from blood shackles and stale tears....

lonely echoes of dirty caked faces and inbreed fears...

cracked out bottomless bottles of despair...

Freeze dried tears to save for future years…

Where am I from?

I am from the institutions of regret.

Like a teacup shattered and glued back, but never the same.

Never again the same.  

Broken.  Impossible to tame.

Zig-zagged and ridged.

Crazed and fragile,

No more shakin’ the rattle.

Boiling water pours through me everyday.

I stand strong because I like it that way.

Standing tall. Proud.  This is me.

But there are cracks.

So please don't laugh

Just cut me some slack…

Where am I from?

I am from the comfort and solace...

God gave me when you left my empty palace-

the root of the tree with no name.

A place where fear resides but shallow cries

break free from shame.

Turn me into a spark.

A spark that ignites the coals.

The black, crumbled coals.

A spark that sings a song of red-orange tones.

A spark that warms the restless walking in the cold.

Now I am fire.  

Destruction!  

Everything and everyone crossing my path is gone.

I am alone.

So don't touch me.

Don't hug me.

Don't even try to love me.

I am alone.

I want alone.

I need alone.

I die alone.

Where am I from?

I am from emptiness.

I am from despair.

But God gave me the tools to give a care.

So I will take the dare and move on from there.

The real question is not

“Where am I from?”

but “Where will I go from here?”