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.
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.