I do not remember,
The goose bumps against my skin,
The ice cubes I would hold in the very palms of my hands
I DO REMEMBER the brutal Darkness I had within
Not of them
Not for him
Not for his group of friends;
For myself.

The interruption of trauma put fourth into my mind.
I was;
The outlined name on the piece of scrap paper
That everyone seemed to gossip about
I was the 1 out of 4...

1 out of 4
I had to feel the slim of shame through the outer course of my skin
It felt as if a vast sign was beginning attached to the back of my shirt
Everyone knew
Throughout the whole school,
Throughout the world
It felt to me...

The bitterness in my throat as I choke out the words of ****,
The word **** itself is not hard to say
The kids used to scream it on the playground each and every day
My life today is full of Rage,
Not for them
Not for him
Not for his group of friends
For I myself