It's witnessing the image of my father's fist making contact with my brother's skull.
It's my mom throwing a lamp at my head after my dad leaves and I ask her if there's anything she needs.
It's my big sister running away and not telling me where she's going. It's seeing her being emotionally abused and knowing there's nothing I can do to help her.
It's begging my mom to buy me something for the class party in the 3rd grade, receiving generic oreos, then experiencing that common feeling of rejection as I get discusted looks from my classmates when I walk around to pass them out. It's knowing I have no friends and not understanding why. It's feeling my eyes pool up with tears and running out of the room before anyone can see them slide down.
It's looking at the ripped up love note I wrote Mitchell Allen in the fifth grade lying on the gym floor.
It's not having running water for weeks at a time, and my step-mom making us go to school dirty.
It's being a little girl and unsure that anyone really loves you.
It's realizing that every last one of your friends sucks, and they suck for the simple reason that they share your self-destructive traits.
That's how I felt today --- for no particular reason.
It's being hugged by a guy friend at work, having no affection toward him, but feeling as though you could melt from the strength in his arms and the heat from his breath.
It's getting so used to being alone that even when I feel like I'd die without being held, I push people away.
It's feeling stuck and needing change.
It's having so much to say to so many people, and feeling the force of all your words press against your heart when your mind refuses to say them out of fear.
It's everyone expecting humor in your voice when you feel like screaming.
You know what it really is? It's throwing a pity party, then feeling guilty for feeling sorry for myself.
Trinitie