Whore.

Private school teaches you the most astonishing of techniques: how to unbody the disbodied, how to discern between the eyes and mouth and ears and sounds that compose a human being.

Who are we? 14 years and I've learned nothing of the sort. Somehow those older than me think it best for me to focus on the more important concepts, technicalities, and casualties; the things more useful to me. I’m not quite certain what that means.

It is the last day of school and my head aches, yearning for the abnormalities. I walk down the too familiar corridors, smile plastered to my face, and the cracks, which are inherent to me and large, mighty large, are slowly filled with a viscous neon fluid.

I welcome it, come in. Come in me. Freeze, congeal and solidify within me.

Freeze- thraw. Erosion. Geography.

I am close. Don’t stop. It’s only a matter of time now for my face to rip away from my skull; peeling rather slowly at first, then alas cataclysmically. Humpty Dumpty. It’s over and I am left. Naked. Fragmented. Empty.
Nothing but scree on the ground. Nothing but scree to be found.

Scan me, tell me what do you see? A high-classed whore, come fuck me – its free. You say I am hideous and twisted, mere vestiges of a masterpiece, a curled coughed up hairball. Yummy.

You are wrong.

If I am anything animalistic, I am a black pigeon, crapping and ruining everything with the bleak dream of flying high and escaping from this world to the one beyond.
But I can’t fly, my wings are cut by rules. I have no choice, my wants are dissolved by rules. Neutralization. Killing me off is the world’s medication. It s War!

Private Schools must survive; we are in desperate need of education.
There you have it: the ultimate and much sought after truth: private school teaches you just one thing: we are dirt, mud and bone. We are human, whatever that means.

We live and learn with a plenitude of tears, those sexy emoting rips, your high priced stares. So like a zombie we travel on through the world. Our lives and worlds reduced to halls. It will soon be over, you’ll see, and you will be in search for someone else to corrupt thee.