No not now
Maybe never again
Please don’t preen your feathers
Over me like a mother hen I don’t need them.
I don’t need your beady watchful eyes
or your concern.
I am my own man now.
I am my own something, at least
If not a man
At least I am something.
Something so strong
It fills every room I enter
Where I am my own center
And if not man then centaur
Half man half beast
But I am my own something, at least.
Bursting with noise in the quiet parts of the library,
Screams tearing at my throat
Demanding to be heard, let go,
To become echoes down empty hallways
Now trapped in the rusted husks of classrooms
Where we used to hold hands
empty now
Kernels left on the stalk
Subject to systemic long wave blue light brain rot
And dwindling freedom
Except thought
My hands are rough with calluses now
And what about yours?
Still soft?
Still warm?