I told you I was filled with terror, my whole childhood ripped from my heart and thrown to the woves, my head was crowded with the echoes of voices scratching the raw under-side of my skull in a frenzy to escape

I told you that yesterday held only fear for me, drowning in the ulcerated wound of my dreams.

You told me to grow up.

I told you I was possessed by anger, a blind, white tide, barely held down, whipping at the vessel of my brain, threatening to capsize me, a fury that burned through every nerve and fibre, wanting to maim, murder and devour everyone who had ever made a victim of me.

I told you that today was a pillar of salt to rub into the blisters.

You told me to get over it.

I told you I was fallen to apathy, robbed of my illusions I felt along among us, the world could show me nothing that I wanted to see, cause no event of any consequence.

I told you that tomorrow promised only tedium, trapped in the cell of my room.

You told me to get a life.

I spoke with my eyes.