so I screamed.

on the top of my lungs, shot watching eyebrows skyward. not because I was tired. not because my goldfish won the fight against my bumbling, again. stupid, simple minded adults. always so sure of their let me fix you stares and open palms. i was four and i could feel the world spinning. i knew that upside down was an option. that significance wasn't common place. that you could have a revolutionary vision and instantly lose it to oblivion. that 'work your hardest and you'll always succeed had a nice ring, but played favorites under the table. that fear was tangible. that gray hair isn't always so sure of itself. that beneath that tiny bracelet on my tiny wrist was blood. that bad believes herself to be good, misunderstood. that pain can feel safer than the blanket momma wraps you in when the sky opens and soaks the ground with her doubt, and your bones. that you can color outside of the lines. that even if i had words. i knew i would never know why silence could outweigh the universe. or why it chose my chest as a pleasant resting place.

so i screamed.