how much must you neglect a child to have them believe
there is nothing worth to living past twelve?
how much must you despise a child to have them believe
that living past twelve is a curse?
how much must you jab and jeer "in friendly banter"
that the words are still sinking in, living past twelve?
how much must I despise myself for living past twelve
for you to finally accept me as your child?
how much can i wallow in consciousness and hatred
until i feel that living past twelve is not a death sentence?
how much can i take.
how much can i take?
how much can i take before living past twelve shatters me into a million pieces?
i did not want to live past twelve.
i don't have a choice in that matter anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Life's Memorabilia
PoetryIn haste to make light , one must first conquer darkness A battle between white and black But no one ever seems to mention the murky gray mixtures in between As the quietness of silence covers my ears, I plead to heed my words For there is just so...
