shell

dan_y

it didn't start like this
all volume and mistake
with that fake misunderstanding
and all of that forced hate

but it turned into routine
the kind you power through
that quiet kind of mean
that only kids can do

imagine being strangled
every time you speak
and smiling out for strangers
every other week
and lying to your parents
and tearing them apart

while they throw themselves behind you
to catch you when you fall,
choking on distress
and seething with denial
brimming with the kind of hate
that can only ever exacerbate

something way beyond you
in a disgusting, glorious place
where rubber masks and indignation
are righteous and commonplace

the kind of place where you retaliate
and the calcium in your joints
evaporates and strengthens you
and gives you focus points

places to aim your bile duct
when it snaps and splits in two
and, like some kind of orgasm
momentarily releases you

of health and savoury conscience
and wrath thrown out of sequence
and the overpowering, desperate longing
to tell your parents the truth