Little boys like me indulge on blasphemy when it's shaped like a candycane to feed our sweet tooth, and more than often, was pronounced brittle and useless when we try to muster up courage to say we try to drown in ecstatic fantasies a child could ever think of. We were robbed out of chances of what we could have been and carved forcefully to live the legacies we strongly abhor. We were just little boys, and boy oh boy, were we scared of loud noises and dishes clattering on tiled floors when we fight back. I swear to the saints I hate how it rings in my earlobe and bounces back like a hangover. Noises ring and echoes, and so does the shouts that are already memorised by my perked ears. Every syllable, every rising tones, every spiteful chants spitted like a murky venom on my skin. It burns and leave marks, tattoes blotches and dark spots, and will always hurt even when healed over time like it never really healed.
I just love to hate everything as a young boy. I hate how people around me are perpetually embracing changes every ticking of my bedside clock, and I was still lingering to the echoes of our house built out of anything but noises and anger. I hate the monsters I hid at the farthest side of my closet, monsters that tend to keep me company when sleep never visits. I hate the teacups in our sink dancing with the sunshine I vomited forcefully because it made me sick in the stomach. I hate the monstera plant outside the yard because it's lively and I'm not. And so, it is a sight when I induce nausea with my mute cries. My urges became so vague that I no longer identify what I fancy. I can no longer recollect memories with my toy cars missing wheel, every deflated basketball, almost empty pocket notebook pages where I scribble a forgotten diary habit, every tiny details of what make me a child. I was just a little boy, brittle and naive, and yet the weight of the world was already resting on my bruised palms, and now that I am seemingly growing, I couldn't withstand it anymore. My knees are begging to surrender. My palms written with pleas are tingling to clasp in front of my ribs beguiling for a band-aid in hopes of it healing my wounds. The burning sensations on my throat is a bit too much to muster that it came out as quiet gags that lasts longer than how I slept, eyes wide-open with my consciousness taking trip down blurry memory-lane. My teenage life's already at its prime, and yet I still have a heart of a teary-eyed boy who got scolded for taking risks and disobeying orders because it's not what I want to die for. Even as a child, I know it's not what I want to die for. I don't want to die with chains on my mouth, but that doesn't mean I'd want to live in inverted faith either.
I'd grow old, and my young self wouldn't still be intact. I will always be reminded, will always react to the same noises that keep me up all night until dawn. It will visit me like an old friend, even though unwelcome and despised, but still a part of myself that I can never, ever discard.
And I will always ache.
A warchild unfolding the secrets of the universe in a timelapse. Annyeong Haseyo! This author is a dreamer. He goes by the name Cronus and is under the username @cronus.arthfael. He lives in Lake Wood, Philippines, and is a proud Bisaya. He likes to listen to music especially KPOP. Aside from fanboying to his favorite group acts, he also loves to read and Sci-fi and Romance are his favorite genres.
Cronus is a 17 year-old boy, who writes to not feel trapped in his very own emotions. Before discovering prose-poetry, he fancied writing short stories and haikus as a way to ease his boredom during the pandemic, and his interest about literature grew from there onwards. He also loves gaming. If given a PC or a phone with bigger storage, who knows, he might even become a pro!
His muse is Wong Kun-hang from the K-POP/C-POP boy group, WayV (Neo-Culture Technology sub-unit). Images from this blog are retrieved from @i_m_hendery on instagram. Lastly, this user likes to have interactions with people whom he shares the same interests with!
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