Like slides across a projector,
Unwanted memories sweep into my mind.
I wish I could go back to before,
Sat cross-legged with my pigtails swinging, listening to the grown ups lessons.
That was all before self-hatred tugged at my heartstrings,
And unworldly voices hissed in my ear that I wasn’t enough,
That I never would be.
The flashbacks are blinding me, they distort the image,
Twisting the reality.
How can a friend do that in the first place?
He was supposed to be my rock, my shelter from the storms inside my head.
I had built myself up knowing that he would be there to keep me strong,
Placing brick by brick around my heart, I deigned to think I was unbreakable.
They said not to throw rocks at greenhouses,
What do we do when the rocks begin hurling themselves at our fragile walls?
I want to grasp at the shards,
Holding my broken pieces so hard my palms drip with blood,
And cut down those who hurt me.
To fight back despite the tears streaming down my face.
I want to use the shards to rip the skin from my bones,
Destroy to create; erase myself to rebuild myself?
I will become stronger, I will never be so vulnerable.
Most of all, I want to rise from the rubble standing tall,
And learn to never again lay my foundations in shakey grounds.
Maybe then, I will have finally understood what the grown ups had taught me all those years before.
