you would think that growing up you could leave somethings behind,
but each day, by this one or another and even family, you get carried
back,
back,
and back,
to a time when defending yourself meant you were outnumbered,
your memories tell you they never stopped and you knew you were
not the only one, but they always made time for you,
down,
down,
and down,
so you became the clown, fast with your words, not with your feet,
you know how many times sitting down I somehow missed my seat,
you know how many times with my books, I played hide and seek,
and that was elementary school,
stares,
after stare,
while stars,
closed the night overhead and your pillow on your head and you
would dream that dream that tomorrow would be better and they
would see the good in you and make up for lost time and call you friend,
but,
but you,
would wake up,
to being the **** of the jokes as you got older the stakes got higher,
now you had to fight or be called as well a quitter, a crier, the higher
the grade the more they played with you like a worn out soccer ball,
deflated,
patches worn,
once they beat you down, you were left in a field of your own misery,
as your tears poured like rain, your own storm of the pain, that inside
of you was shaping castle walls, armour plate, look you in the eye,
and there
was steel,
no feeling, give them no fuel to feed the fire of their desire was a thought, but
you were no longer reeling, you were tired, just wanted it to end, you knew how,
you knew they would talk about you, when you were gone but they would
move on to someone else, so you stuck around, drove a banner into the ground,
saying
no more,
not me,
no more,
not one other,
we all now see,
"how weak and sick and twisted your life is, look in the mirror do you like what you see,
the ugly, every word and name you ever called me and everyone else is written on your
face, permanent ink, what a disgrace" threw my broken geometry case between two, while the third one, dropped my books from an open second story window.
The grade twelve teacher arrived to muffled laughter, all eyes on me, tears rolling from eyes, no control, in the blur I did despise every one in the class, he said to me "What is your problem?" I left room running and slammed the door, cracking it from hinge to hinge to floor.
I was never again bullied, no more, no more...
However, choose a path of peaceful resolution,
these three became, no not friends, but they did
respect my throwing arm.
©DWE122013
Sometimes you just can't let go. Imploding and exploding (not the best in each situation) are options but so is exploring solutions. No I did not have to pay for the door repair, yes I did get my books back, and a new geometry set. They did apologize, they meant it too.