Every year
it ambushed me again.

With August came the
back to school ads,
promises of all things new:
new clothes,
new shoes,
new notebooks,
new classes and teachers,
everything fresh and
happy and exciting.

I am seduced by hope
that this time
it will all be different.

But there’s no new family,
no new friends,
no new classmates.

I find myself caught
in the same old ruts
of outcast scapegoat,
loner loser,
bully victim,

just wearing new shoes,
the latest clothes,
and carrying this year’s books -
until they are stepped on,
pissed on during PE,
and knocked out of my arms.

Again I sink
into a quicksand pit
of darkness and despair
and numb apathy.

Then Christmas ads come out,
promising life-changing gifts
that offer happiness
and new beginnings
and all the heart desires.

And once again I am seduced by hope...

9 / 19 / 13
"the scariest thing about abuse of any shape or form, is, in my opinion, not the abuse itself, but that if it continues it can begin to feel commonplace and eventually acceptable."
- Alan Cumming, "Not My Father's Son"