They’ll say I’ve run away,
Some remote corner of Los Angeles, taking a drag from a cigarette
And listening to indie rock
I am a stereotype. I am a lost cause.
The river understands me;
I’ve made my bird’s nest from
Small pools of shallow water and silver silt
At night the frogs keep me company with their schizophrenic chatter
I’ll watch for thieving eyes in the night, a growl from the underbrush
I am so primal here.
On my twelfth birthday, they grew afraid of me.
My temperament frayed their nerves and
I sucked their vitality from their eyes and
I made their lives so difficult
Shut up. Please. You’re too loud, too needy, we can’t handle this right now
Think about your future.
Stop acting so juvenile.
As though I was doing it on purpose.
I was-still am-at war with the animals within me
Hear the grinding as my heart grows and rubs against my ribcage
My pupils dilate
I laugh so easily, I have a dirty mind
Teeth white and sharp, the better to eat them with
I no longer try to understand what’s going on
So I come here
Spend my summers in the water hole
Drifting alone in the center of my personal ocean
My skin gleams with sweat and adrenaline
I eat roots and berries and eggs
I am sinew and bone
I’m so filthy and this makes me happy beyond belief
I dare the bobcats, locusts, apocalypse to challenge me
There is nothing as willful as a child in transition
They’ll label me a vagrant and a vagabond
Halfway raised and feral to the point of instability
They’ll judge me for the feathers in my hair,
My rags, my posture
There is so much to explore far away from their fretful glances
The world beckons and frightens in equal measure
Let me grow up
Let me grow old beneath the immense branches of this patriarchal oak
Solid, and stoic, and beautiful,
Eclipsed only by these mountains and the astral bodies above
I’m allergic to the constraints of society
I’m moved by things within and things too big to be explained.
One day, maybe, I’ll come back and try to fit in, wear a pantsuit,
Buy a house in the suburbs and raise a couple carbon copies of myself
But for now, I’m leaving them all behind, those stupid stereotypes and expectations.
You should do the same.
Run away. Be free. Act stupid. Stay young.
Scream when you’re angry.
Sing when you want.
Stop listening.
Start living.