Amalgamation of Beliefs

I wonder what started this feverish heatwave,

Was it the smoldering look you gave me as if I had no eyes?

Was it the searing words you screamed at me as if I had no ears?

Or was it the cruel ones you didn’t dare mutter in fear it would poison me?

They all assume I know nothing of their whispers, indiscretions or judgements,

They like to think I don’t pick up on the little jabs they make with blood-stained daggers,

As if my age equated my maturity, as if it were as simple as a few distant hello’s once in a while,

Almost as though the love I had received as a child meant I deserved no more now that I’m older,

But a child’s eyes wander, and so do their thoughts, no matter how cruel they may be,

And if you ever wonder if I’m blind, or deaf, or stupid, or careless, or impulsive, or unknowing,

Please know I see the hatred swimming in your eyes and flooding your perception,

Please know I hear all your snides and mumbles about my differences and work ethic;

Please know I understand all your backhanded compliments and subtle comments,

Please know I care about my image and try to make responsible adult decisions,

Please know I think about my words before I say them to avoid bruising inflictions,

Please know I recognize your misplaced curiosity and misguided, hurtful questions,

But alas, I know none of this soft pleading or earnest begging will get me far,

And so I swallow your deadly afflictions whole like they don’t get stuck in my throat,

As if they aren’t bitter, I gulp them down without any problems or hesitations,

And then I chug some medicine in hopes it will antagonize your impressive ferocity

Just like clockwork I felt the scorching magma roaring to life under my skin,

Thrashing like a monster snarling to be let out of its rusting chains and withering restraints,

Yet again, I felt the hurt thrumming in every cell of my forsaken body like some sick beat,

Once more, it is coursing through my veins like a medicine-guised terminal disease

My blood was rushing, rushing and rushing

As if it would miss a train if it didn’t run,

As if my heart would collapse if it didn’t sprint,

As if my rib cage would cave in if it didn’t hurry,

My love was dimming and growing faulty

Something nasty was growing in its place,

Something long overdue was coming in waves,

Something tragic was bursting into devouring flames

I may be portrayed as stoic and unfeeling, or confident and self-loving, or strong and resilient

But I’ll admit I’m still a vulnerable child under all these layers of impenetrable armour

I’ll confess that even I have committed sins, some forgivable and others not so much

And that oftentimes, it is easier to love everybody else before I can learn to love myself

Tell me: is it concerning that the words I wish to speak get stuck between my teeth?

Is it worrying that I think of possibilities that end in me slaughtering my own body?

Is it annoying that I seek others’ opinions of me as if I were nothing but an amalgamation of beliefs?

And that the parasite of self-doubt latches itself onto me as if it was returning home every week?