Demands.
Questions.
Altercations.
Frustration.
I'm
Tearing
Apart.­

My hands are gripped
From two sides
Blind eyes
Walking a blurred path
To an uncertain end
There are no cross walks
The street lights are dim
The voices in my head
Over power each other
Teach me how to look

The starting line
Was bold from afar
Not even my crossing guards
Can help me now
My legs are tired
There is no end
Others are sprinting
My goal is lost
I am not enough
Mother, do you hear my pleas?
*Teach me how to talk