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Quinn Jan 2018
I used to love you
but now I don't know
who you are...
-mother

She asks me why I am
shape-shifted from nice
to mean.

Bang bang bang
goes my body against the
side of a bathroom door.

I don't know what you mean, I told her,
I have just lost my love for people.

My friends tell me,
'You must've had a good time
last night" When they see the
back scratches etched up my
spine.

If only they saw my tears
flowing free and wild
like a raging river from a poster
dentists put up in their offices
so little kids can pretend like pulling
teeth doesn't hurt when it happens
next to someplace peaceful.

What made you so mean?

The clang clang
crash of my head
against a wall and his
finger between my teeth
made me mean.

The taste of blood
under the covers
made me mean.

He made me mean.

I miss the subtle simplicity
summer sweet electricity
of my childhood julys.

When I counted the clouds
and made trees into palaces
with my mind.

Found time ties down my
imagination and chips away
at each childhood memory.

Replacing hot happy colors with
blue green and grey, laying
positivity sweetly to its grave
singing a song while sneering
at its body secretly.

That is why I am mean mom,
it is not because of you,

it is from the world, society
kills itself every day
Working ourselves to
death and shaming those
who take their own lives
early.

Pandemics freeze flash
millions of people's lives,
but in countless eyes
third world tragedy simply
doesn't exist.

Hyperconnectivity and
antidepressants define
my generation, what about yours?
And when he finally finished,
he ran out of the stall,
and into a crowded street,
without looking me in the eye.

That is why I am mean.
Sometimes boys hurt boys too

— The End —