I Must Have Missed That

Once I forgot how to write,

Sat blurry eyed at a blank screen,

Treating the keyboard like a minefield

Each letter threatening to go off at any minute,

waiting,

terrifying the fight out of me, controlling me.

Soon I forgot I had a voice.

The world grew louder and I

Grew smaller,

Dragged away by hands,

My heart longed to yell

NO.

But "no" is a privilege of the bold.

The castle once built with words was stomped on

by kids in the sandbox.

Metaphorically of course,

Because kids could never be so cruel...

I must have missed that.

How Stupid.

I remember equating my self to the number,

On an English piece I loved so much,

I felt so deeply.

Yet still she would write

"confusing... write what you know"

Well here is what I know;

Sometimes I forget how to run because

That one boy in gym class said

"You run funny".

Gathering laughter like tokens from the other guys;

Who would chime in with,

"You should really shave your legs".

Like some freak show had occurred;

I never knew hair grew back there...

I must have missed that.

How Stupid.

Once having words ripped from me,

thrown in my face,

I'm the joke.
Sprawled across a paper
In the form of a compliment:
I never knew you but...
you seem nice.
Or big and bold nothing else holding on..
Quiet. 

The quiet girl. 

Eventually the slut.

You loved to make me...

I must have missed that.