catapiller

walking home from panty raid
so many crunchy leaves on the ground
took me back to when i was 13 years old
it would take me an hour to walk home two blocks from my jr. high
because i had to step on every crunchy leaf.
obsessive maybe. but it was more cathardic.
i never looked up. just down, zig zaging through the sidewalk
picking which leaves to stomp, which to leave.
never thinking about how i had no friends
how everybody hated me
how i hated myself
how my parents never talked to me
except when they were yelling
how i was stuck, i didn't want to die
but i certainly didn't want to live my stupid life...
none of it. just leaves, the sounds they made.
during the next few years i will have picked up
a few more ticks and loose them again.
except for the sniffling... that's the only one that stayed.