by Mather Scheider
I don’t like to have my face
touched
even in tenderness.
I don’t like to be looked at
too long.
Molars of life
big as the moon
crunch and grind
our lives.
We smile if we
can
and we argue and fight
if we are
brave or bored.
I am confused.
The world hurts
beyond understanding.
Remember
what they do
to you, your
brothers and
sisters, and what you
do to them.
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