Your mangled, decrepit hands are grabbing me, maiming me. I am tormented and pulled, your arms rap like vines around my ankles. Slowly, you pull me farther under with each tug. Quickly, you tell me of your rebarbative plan to humiliate and ruin me. I will not be ripped apart again, I scream to anyone who can hear me. I am forever the beginner and builder, never what is being torn down. I am forever the reinvention. I am forever the realest reality that anyone could ever tuch, the voice of reason for these children so devoid of feelings. I will not fall in to my bed’s arms, curl in to myself and be taken twice as many steps back as I have stepped forward. I will escape the torturous fate of this small town atmosphere. Triumphant, always