Growing Pains

GROWING PAINS

My mind; a ticking bomb, a loaded gun.

Desperate for belonging, self-worth,

For aplomb.

Sliding away from all normative behavior.

            Tackling my demons, my sins, while shunning all saviors.

Throwing myself at problems I know I can’t solve.

            All in the hopes that one day,

I might evolve.

Though, truth be told, I love the cold.

            The way it seeps through the bone and penetrates the marrow.

Knowing I prefer the conflict, the dissonance,

To a joy as narrow.

But maybe one day I’ll change; finally shed this life-long phase.

I know. Not likely.

Thus, I’ll spare you the rest, I‘m sure it’s difficult to hear.

            How tainted my thoughts with beliefs so sheer.

And yes, I know, you only asked because you care.

            So, I’ll lie and say I’m fine. I’m fine, really.

I swear.

            Just please know, that I’ll always defy the sun to frolic in the rain.

Because what you call Self-Abuse, I call Growing Pains.

            -Adam Marcon