Break

When I was a child, I once said shut up in front of my father. My brother did something, I can't remember what. Immediately, he corrected me. That was bad word, we don't use bad words, especially not on people we love. I didn't say shut up again until after my tenth birthday. I was so mad that day. A boy at school told me I was a thot. I didn't know what it meant at the time, but people around me started laughing. I was so embarrassed and so confused. I allowed myself to step out of character.

As the years passed, I've found I have very different values from my parents and treat language very differently. If they saw what I said in my day-to-day, they'd have a heart attack. However, I've always remained careful in what I say to loved ones. I hold so much back, I become a glass wall ready to shatter with anger. I've noticed that people don't really care much for broken glass shards. Even when you piece it back together, it's still considered a hazard. 

So now I ask myself, how do I not break? How do I release my words while containing my composure? I haven't had much practice. Turns out that when you only talk to people who care about you, you don't have that many arguments. All I really have is time and space to reflect. And a bludgeoning urge to put indescribable feelings onto a paper. Or a screen. Digital media is slowly disappearing, after all.