Treasure Island

Anna Kirshenbaum


I didn't


When I wanted to scream – I didn't
When I wanted to break some dishes or somebody's face – I didn't
When I wanted to cut myself – I didn't
When I wanted to hurt someone so bad, they would never bounce back – I didn't
When I wanted to be a bitch – I didn't
When I wanted to be this cool, weird, spooky, rebellious kid – I didn't
When I wanted to tell of my bleeding and dying inside, of my mind eating me alive, of the black waves crushing my sanity – I only wrote few lines in my journal, or poured out some little silly dramatic verses…

I was blessed in a way – I had enough maturity and irony to see the vulgarity of all that, the undignity of all that, the patheticness of all that, the weakness of all that. And weak I am not.

I was, however, cursed, too – I never had enough strength to shed the pathos completely… Seems, for life I am caught between the pull to the likes of Byron Katie and the draw to the likes of Marilyn Manson.

Submitted: Thursday, July 04, 2013
Edited: Monday, December 16, 2013
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