SUN SETTING

xxvi.

I MISS THE OLD DAYS.

(WHEN MY FINGERS WEREN'T CURLED
LIKE THE SNAIL SHELLS OF PREHISTORIC ERAS.
WHEN MY KNUCKLES DIDN'T BRUISE AGAINST
WET BATHROOM WALLS.
WHEN MY PALMS HUNG LOOSELY BY MY SIDE
AND CHEWED NAILS DIDN'T DIG INTO MY
FLESHY SKIN.)

I MISS THE OLD DAYS.

(WHEN MY LIPS PULLED INTO TEETH-FLASHING SMILES AND I WASNT SCARED TO FLASH THE YELLOW-WHITE THINGS IN MY MOUTH MADE OF CALCIUM, PHOSPHORUS, AND OTHER STRANGE MINERALS. WHEN MY TEETH WEREN'T A THING MY MIND FELL TO SHAME UPON. WHEN MY LIPS WEREN'T COVERED IN HALF-HEALED SCABS AND DRIED BLOOD FROM THE CONSTANT STRESS THEY WERE SUBDUED TO. WHEN THEY DIDN'T SPIT WORDS OUT IN FURY AND SALIVA DIDN'T FLY FROM MY VULGAR MOUTH. WHEN MY LIPS DIDN'T FROWN.

I MISS THE OLD DAYS.

(WHEN MY EYES DIDN'T NARROW IN THE GLARING LIGHT OF THE UNFORGIVING SUN, CAUSING THE PRECIOUS PEOPLE AROUND ME TO FROWN AT MY FACE, PROBABLY WONDERING WHY SUCH CRUEL FEATURES ADORN MY VISAGE. I THINK I WOULD ROLL MY EYES IF THEY TOLD ME THAT, BLAME IT ON THE SUN, LIE. AVOID THE WORDS THAT SAY I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I HATE. WHEN MY EYEBROWS DIDN'T PULL DOWNWARDS UNTIL THE LACK OF SPACE BETWEEN THEM WAS A COMFORT TO ME. WHEN CROWS FEET GRACED THE CORNERS OF MY EYES.)

I MISS THE OLD DAYS.

WHY?

THEY WERE NICER, I SUPPOSE.

HOW COME?

THINGS WERE... SIMPLE, I LIKE SIMPLE.

(LIAR) AH.

- i am some sort of definition of anger and i wish i could stop and sometimes just smile