you can only break glass once

broke my knees but somehow i’m still walking.
broke my teeth but i’m still talking, somehow.
somehow.
rebellion upon rebellion, you were my hardest resistance to resist.
i fought you,
i wrestled your form,
my formless spirit knows it well.
i’m not satisfied with just a limp.

build all your stupid walls,
i’ll tear them down, again, and again.
you can love me, try.
i’ll trade it again and again for other lovers.
some have legs and minds, and some i’ve just made up in my mind.

but you created me,
creature of habit i am not.
forgetful, i am not.
angry, i am.

this child within screams and breaks every arm that tries to embrace his restless shape.

now i know why my momma went and threw the dishes on the floor.
i thought they were fine china.
they were plastic.
you can only break glass once you know.

plastic resists the floor like i resist you.

like a dog who bites his master’s hand,
the same hand that feeds it, comforts it.
go away, i don’t want you to love me right now,
because i don’t love me right now.
if i don’t love me how can you love me?

but you are a storm untempered,
you are a violence unmatched.
and you fall on me like a hard spring rain.
i am tired of this rebellion.
i am tired of hiding.
i am tired of running.
i am tired of playing in these closets with things that have been dead for years.
they are not coming back to life.
but i just might.

if light is the absence of darkness, then you are the absence of me.
and i am glad for it.

“Be not quick in your spirit to become angry, for anger lodges in the heart of fools.”