Sixth grade was a revolutionary time for me. I was officially a middle-schooler. I joined band and picked up my first flute. I made new friends and discovered that I loved to write. As an assignment for my English class, we were to write a poem about the things that bother us, things that just grind our gears to no end. Looking back, I recognize the simplicity of the past, my naivety and my innocence. Looking back, I wish that these were the only things that still bugged me today, but in reality, they’re just the beginning.

“When my dog barks and wakes me up

When my brother drinks out of my cup

When the red traffic lights always take forever

When I ask for something and Mom says “never”

When the camping trip gets cancelled because of the rain

When a toothache gives me too much pain

When I try to skip a rock but it goes right underwater

When I’m dizzy and I wobble like an old teeter totter

When my nose is plugged and I cannot not sneeze

When a person won’t say “please”

When I poke a balloon but it doesn’t pop

When the things that bug me just don’t stop”

...and now...

When my presence turns no heads and I feel like a ghost

When the things just out of reach are the things I want the most

When I try to see my future but it lacks that clarity

When I’m treated like a child, like a g*ddamn charity

When the magic of my childhood seems muffled, dimmed, and weaker

When I see my mother tears and can do nothing to console her

When my bones are strong and sturdy but the world’s in broken pieces

When fear and hate consume our hearts, respect and love decreases

When harsh words are spoken out of sight but feuds remain unmended

When I cross paths with an old companion to find I’ve been unfriended

When a conflict leaves a tension in the air that suffocates me