Antipathy This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

November 16, 2009
By , sayre, PA
Your voice goes up in tone, mood and octave. I can see the vocal cords, and muscle contracting, stretching, and quivering with the effortless action gained over years of experience. I see it clearly in my mind, like the adolescent fears I have held. The monster who will grab my ankles from under the flap of a blanket, spiders that crawl into ear canals and nasal cavities during precious slumber, and the unexplained fear of sewage drains of all sizes. You get tell me to grow up, become the adult I should be. To change the way I am, actions, and thought process. I feel the words crawl like the spider. You punish me when someone of a higher authority tells you I need saving of the mind, and emotion. I can see the drain growing underneath this so called me. But mostly I feel when the casing of the facade is severed when I sit down upon my bed with the covers hanging over. And I see every look of loathing only the off spring can notice, I feel every apology leave my throat and roll off my tongue and out my chapped lips. A useless muscles I possessed you spoke to me in brittle words, and sharp grated edges. But when you said my throat and mouth I knew you meant my heart, my mind, and myself.

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