Life: Moving, Speaking, Feeling

As all the consequences of my actions
that I thought I so cleverly avoided
comes crashing down on me like a great tidal wave
angrily washing away the leaf pattern on the rug of my living room.

As the two people who looked at me daily with love,
more love than I could even fathom thinking of,
whos eyes once glittered with happiness and hope
were barren in despair and disbelief.

And even as I sat there, unable to speak,
to even try to justify the secret hell I've put all through.

I could not feel.
I could not speak.
I could not even move.

But when I finally had words in my mouth.
But when I finally had will in my body to move.
When I finally reacted, I still could not feel.

All I could think of was one choice.
One choice Ive thought of ever since I was little.
One choice that makes all the difference.

I am leaving.

And I moved. Boy, did I move.
With great arrogance and ignorance, did I move
out of the comfort of my only living relatives home.
I moved right out into the unforgiving world with nothing.

With one dollar and twelve cents.
With a phone and a phone charger.
Dressed in ex boyfriends clothing.
Boy did I move.

And when I did speak.
I spoke with the grace of a drowning harpie.
I spoke with the intelligence of a drunk pirate.
I screamed at the people who brought me into this world.
Vowing I was taking myself out of it.

With venom in my throat.
With fire in my veins.
Armed with every insult possible.
Boy, I promise you, I spoke.

And when I left the house that I was raised in.
When I broke ties with all family.
When I through away every chance I was ever given in this world.
I cannot say with honesty that I felt anything.