Pressured Speech [SssSssh, It’s My Turn To Talk!]

All I wanted was to… Dance.
Not a princess nor a tomboy,
as a young girl
… I would scuff my knees
practicing pirouettes
… until my ‘psyche’ broke.
The ‘self-harm’ and ‘anorexia’
were but feathers…
floating down upon…
weighing scales of CONTROL!
DISCIPLINE is a tunnel
of shaping-hammers
… I smiled the very first time
I shattered a bottom back tooth
through gritting with FOCUS.
DRIVE is torture and addictive
and a God/Devil given ‘fuel’
unlike anything street-narcotic.
You don’t understand, do you
… I can see it as plain as day,
in your ‘small world’ eyes.
Fingertips upon high ledges
… has become my usual state,
I almost attacked a taxi driver
for taking a wrong turning…
and then refused my meds,
until they let me smoke again.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer, who’s currently up to his elbows in Magic, and long may it remain this way. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.