survival

You tell me I am so good 

at changing- so good at 

taking advice and doing 

better. I should not have 

to change. I should not 

have to mold and alter 

myself- I should not have 

to take a knife to my 

personality and carve out 

whatever you want. You 

force me to use a sharpie 

and draw on fake facial 

expressions- to take 

bleach to my wandering 

eyes and scissors to my 

quivering lips- to erase 

words you do not like from 

my script until I say nothing 

at all. I surgically remove 

one of my lungs so I do not

take in so much air- I remove 

my limbs one by one so I do 

not use up so much space. 

I make myself smaller- I 

compact myself into a tiny 

waist and a continuously 

decreasing number but it 

is still not enough for you. 

Large fish eat the small 

fish, but we are humans- 

we are people. Are you 

trying to force me into an 

easier pill to swallow? I 

will make you choke- I will 

bust your windpipe and 

steal the air from your 

lungs. You say this is just 

the rules of survival, but 

survival is not brushing a 

lion’s teeth from inside its 

mouth. Survival is walking 

out and away, but what if 

I do not want to just survive? 

Why do I have to pick 

the route that is the most 

pleasant for everyone else? 

Why do I have to stunt my 

own growth- to starve 

myself because I remind 

you too much of your own 

regrets, to hate myself

because children are just 

reflections of their parents, 

and you hate yourself too. 

I do not want to just 

survive. I want to thrive 

and thriving means pulling 

out all of the teeth in the 

lions mouth so it can not 

hurt me anymore. It is 

cutting off its tongue and 

wearing it like a scarf- 

what is warmer than 

freshly drawn blood, 

anyway? I do not want to 

live in a fearful neutrality 

with something I know 

will eat me alive- I want 

to let it know that if it 

does try and eat me, 

I will open the gates of 

hell from within its stomach. 

You want me to change? 

To be better? I will. I will 

be myself- I will be the 

person that terrifies 

everyone, the one that 

performs root canals on 

Godzilla and turns its 

teeth into dream catchers. 

You want me to become 

the tiny fish? The algae 

you eat? Honey, I will 

become the ocean. I will 

turn your so-called gills 

into a braille suicide note. 

I will turn your cries for help 

into bubbling sea foam. 

Just try and swallow me now.