On craving and rejecting intimacy

I am part of a generation that feels abandoned.
Picture a child, left alone all day with other children, and then left alone all alone.

Resenting the parents it was gifted, because they were no parents at all.
And thus was their role;
I was born to call my mother by her first name.

Now, when I am alone, I don’t feel lonely,
I feel punished.

The colourblind exist only with the seeing,
and children who grew up too quickly
often die gorgeously fast.

Now, I feel lonely, and I shout
my name on every wall face and sound
I shout til my thoughts splash red
and my veins pump hate

Then,
and only then,
can I grow up.

If time with yourself feels like you did something wrong,

maybe you did.

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