I've said words I shouldn't have said;
words that we won't soon forget.
I didn't listen
to the millions
of things you told me.
I didn't agree.
I wanted to be free to run.
I wanted to have fun.
I didn't care about rules or school
or thinking before I did
because I was just a kid.
A kid who didn't conform,
a kid that was the epitome of a storm—
wrecking everything in my way.
A kid who couldn't convey
why I would disobey
and misbehave.
I wasn't trying to be a nuisance,
instead I was just trying to figure out my own existence
because everyone is different.
And I seemed belligerent
because I wasn't what you were used to.
I wasn't what you knew.
I was hyper and loud,
stubborn about
what I was supposed to do
because I didn't think things through
or understand why it was necessary.
I felt secondary, an afterthought
because I wasn't a robot.
I was a nonstop, scrappy naught
who couldn't be taught to sit still.
A pill to swallow, a hotheaded bravado.
I know I was a wild child,
but that a smile was more often than not
glued to my face.
I know I wasn't filled
with a whole lot of grace,
and that I often misplaced
anything and everything.
I know that, overall,
I was generally happy,
even though I was also often angry—
no, not angry.
Frustrated, oscillated variants of emotion
constantly going through my head.
Feelings like intense explosions
inside of me.
So, I know what it's like
to be energetic and restless,
to have my actions being seen as
reckless and careless,
to be told to calm and settle down,
to feel drowned by negativity,
to feel like an animal stuck in captivity,
to be stared at in public for acting goofy and wild,
and to often feel like a problem child.
YOU ARE READING
The Things We Don't Talk About
Poetry***Trigger Warning: Mental health, mental illness, eating disorders, suicidal ideation, self-harm*** A collection of poems delving into the dark side of the human experience. From high highs to low lows, emotion can be intense. And this collection s...
