t e n: reprisal
Shouting, there's always yelling
and screaming everywhere I turn to.
The words begin to blend
around me like a stereo dial
set immediately on the loudest
setting possible.
I can almost feel
the pulse streaming under
my veins;
the blood,
pouring out of the anger
around everywhere I turn,
the blood,
that comes from my ears,
and I bring hands to cover the pooling
agony that my head cannot
withstand, but it loses
from the shouting
that intensifies the more
I seem to block it out.
Arguments are being held
in almost every aspect in my
entire life
and it disgusts me
because I never seem to inject
myself onto the side,
where my voice is gone without
the screaming,
my raw, internal conscious begging
to be heard but never given
the opportunity to speak.
First it was between mum and dad,
before she packed her bags
and forgot about her daughter,
alone with a crazy father
and wicked temper.
Second was with the administrator,
for he kept telling me to abide
the regulations
when I didn't think I really violated,
not technically,
but I feel no matter what,
I remain at fault - always.
I never expected to hold one with you,
where irony laughed that when
I finally got a chance to
let the inner me be heard,
I didn't want to know the answers,
not really, because it hurt more
for me to hear you confirm it to me
than to even witness it.
But there was also the shattering
impulse to want to set things right,
and when you told me it was no big deal,
that we weren't really set to seeing each other,
that the relationship we had held blurred lines
and our communication was always
full of mixed signals
because of which made
us end up crashing somewhere
along the road somehow,
made me want to hurl
and pelt and damage you
the way you did to the only
living organ still alive in my body.
You told me you couldn't do this anymore,
couldn't do us,
(whatever the hell that ended up being)
and I didn't know that I could be such a burden
to someone who felt like such a gift.
You needed a break,
(did you hear that shatter of my resolve?).
You needed some space,
(but I never got close to you yet).
You needed some time
(even though there wasn't any left)
and you couldn't do it anymore,
as I couldn't, either.
So I did what anyone else could do.
I snapped,
and the only shouting that I could hear
in the end when I wanted to not,
was the mute of my brain
and the roar of my throat,
that may have found justice
in vocalizing it's thoughts,
but lost your attention,
which meant that I had lost
before I could even fight.
