Contrl II

the old way was killing you

but what else was there?

People only knew that little kid:
weirdly quiet
and intelligent
mature and calm
might hate math
but loves her brother


and when that man

ruins everything
your mother falls apart
always sleeps
always works
(never did before)

when that man

wants the grand adventure

without the wife and kids

when the numbness
and pretended understanding finally

FINALLY

give way

no one wants to see the real kid
no one wants to see the hurt and anger

and he won't accept it
he won't give you something to fight with
he says it's his fault
it's all his fault
He accepts responsibility
so please forgive him
don't be mad at him.

and yer the good kid.
yer the one who loves like no one else ever could.
and though you can't see it at the time
he was your Superman.

and he's left you with nothing.

and they've left you with nothing.
nowhere to vent, to cry, to scream, to rebel, to pour it out

because yer that goddamned Good Kid.

and it's killing you.
emotionally poisoning you.
the people who love you
reject you.

and it leaks out.

you don't know/you wish it hadn't/of course it's too late

you can't undo it and now that you know it
you see the acid eating the metal.
and you want it.
you visualize the metal corroding away
give me that freedom
let me be
let me lose control
and be that kid
that I should have been in high school
the rebel who had everything to rebel against
let me be in control of losing control!

If I'm going to hurt the last person I wanted to hurt,
let me knowingly hurt the ones that deserve to be hurt.

Let me scatter that pain over everyone.
Bystanders be damned.
I will waste my youth
waste my potential
waste the opportunities
they dreamed for me
I secretly dreamed for me
I will embrace the terror of growing up.
loving it
as the reason for my destruction.

I will not grow up.
What's wrong with squandering my education?
What's wrong with twisting your dreams?
What's wrong with imitating the bad example?


but don't forget about contrl.
how many years
I survived through contrl.
control.

I don't want to be the bad example.

but it's all gone. I let the acid eat it away.

fundamentally

I can't see anything stronger than steel
except my acid.

So I need something real.

and that's the new way:
the knife, the cutting way
when all the other girls have left it behind
I pick it up.
And carry it in my pocket.

And when I can't stop crying
or when I can't stop thinking of him
the pain
I make it real
ever so gently.

Sliding softly over skin. Just a tiny break. Speckles of blood.

I am alive.
I am in control.