You know when your a kid and you start chewing gum, And you pull it out of your mouth and strum it like a guitar, All giddy and such, Just to hear your mom or dad tell you not to? After that day you don’t do it again. After that you put your Gum-Bass fantasy behind and move on. But you never forget what your parents said. You never forget them telling you not to do that.
I sat in my room one night, A stick of Juicy Fruit in my mouth, Not really caring about a thing. It was late. I pulled my gum out of my mouth again, And I played it like a guitar. Like a child, I sat and I put it back in my mouth and smiled to myself. I was happy. I don’t know why, Maybe it was the feeling of going back to the days when I wasn’t scolded for bad grades, But instead for all the little things. It doesn’t really matter to me.
I was happy. I was 8 years younger, Playing Super Mario 64 with my brother, Waiting for Christmas to come again. It all came back to me, And I cried.
Everything came back. All the memories of people long gone, All the hatreds I forgot, All the friends I left behind, All of it came like poison. I felt the pain of the bullies fist and words, The anger that got me into therapy, The sadness when my cousin died from a tumor.
It hurt. Every part of my body ached. I wanted to curl up and wait to forget. I wanted to cry all night at the things long gone. I wanted to forget the times my brother hurt me. I wanted to forget my parents separation. I wanted to forget my pain and anger.
But I couldn’t. I sat there and just cried. I didn’t curl up. I didn’t reach for a knife and watch my own blood flow. I didn’t look for my fathers gun. I didn’t find rope.
I moved on. I looked at my celling, And smiled to myself. I haven’t lived a “good” life. I am the middle child, I am the dirt underneath the shoes of some.
It all makes me that much stronger. And I couldn’t be more thankful for it.