From Scattered Seeds of Thought

Slivers & Shivers of What I Once Was

A teen's silent scream of confusion ~~~

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Slivers and Shivers of What I Once Was

My parents hold measures of what I should be
Stretching me further on doors and on walls.
I try to reach upward, but I’m short two degrees,
And I can’t fake an interest in their dear cholesterol.

I stare in the mirror, but my reflection is moving.
The me that I see wants to run from my eyes.
When I force me to look, I see they’re disapproving
So I hide in my head and declare it’s all lies.

Six-sided hexagons cover my windows.
I can’t see the grass, or look at the sky.
I’m surrounded by curtains in hues of indigo,
A bargain my mother decided to buy.

My hair is from bottles; my drink is in cans.
My life is in ribbons; it’s tattered and torn.
I’m climbing the beanstalk without any plan.
And I spend my time wondering why I’ve been born.

My teachers all think they know the correct sums,
So they torment us students to get at the prize.
But their problems are empty; their solutions just crumbs,
They lack all the answers yet want to advise.

But me – I’m just crystal, shattered like ice.
Why don’t you step on me? Everyone does.
I used to be sane; now I’m only thin-sliced.
And I’m slivers and shivers of what I once was.

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Ah, those "delightful" teenage years when we walked on quicksand.