So when I woke up there was this monster

I felt what a giant I could be, screaming and tearing apart every bit in the room

I was fueled by the rage, finally fueled by the rage I felt

it was finally burned up to be, burned up and used as something,

and becoming something different, eventually, finally.

The months I’ve counted from that day

the years have been in modest mode

half of the life, half of the smile, only half of the world

looked back at me

and could be reflected on to.

Now throughout this time, there are many to be grateful for.

There’s my friend, who held me, who was shook by my numbness, I think.

There’s the boy who made me realize the realness and factuality, and who opened that door for me.

And there’s the girl who handed me a tissue when I cried for we didn’t know what it was that had happened.

The girl who told me the truth everybody was going to keep away from me, the actual one which killed me, which took the life from me, which made me un-work for the rest of the decade. God how I do thank her.

They must have known about it. I know now that they knew.