I once thought, in a brief moment of naivety, that I had grown up.
Misinformed was I as I shuffled on my way
For I had failed to realize that you are as grown
as the people you find yourself around.
It may not necessarily be your fault,
circumstances and such make it so that you do not
always choose those in your life.
Nevertheless, for as grown as you feel,
you are just as young, and stupid.
It was the lull; I discovered it upon moving here,
the lull of the land of edible gold and molded heart attacks.
It lulls you into a sense of otherness, untouchable outside-ness
of harsh realities hundreds of miles away.
So you feel grown in your knowledge, in the lull,
almost progressive for being so far out really.
Until you are reminded by a misinformation
and suddenly you are young again, and the record is playing.
The jeers, ignorance and uncomfortable agitation ring
the bells of bad memories long forced into vaults.
You can’t help but feel anger, fury, at the reminder.
It was just a moment, but the words echoed and the look burned
and you are reminded that others can still harm you
even though you are taller now, bigger now,
but still so young.
You just want to scream at the injustice.
Stomp your feet and hit something, anything,
and hope the world learns its lesson the way it taught you yours,
with violence; in both word and fist.
And the injustice of it all is no matter how adamant you are,
no matter how hard you plead for someone to see your side,
the world already made up its mind about you.
You are who they labeled you; unattractive, fat, unworthy.
The side-show that they can place their own insecurities on
and call you the freak, instead of saying the words to their mirror.
There we are, seeing for the first time that the armor you put up
is still weak, still penetrable, and way too heavy to bear.
No. Are you kidding me?
A stuttered protest and reigned fury and here we are.
Faces haunting dreams until insomnia offers the only relief.
And words unsaid spin in your head and all you wish to say
makes you the demon in the end.
We never really grow until we realize
the world is so young thanks to its ability to be quiet, or lie.