after tourist trap ii

i might've wanted to be you when i was younger, when the thunder of their screaming rained down on me and threatened never to end, not that it was ever going to benefit you, but with those eyes, you might've been as innocent as i was back then, and i could've used a hideout...i'd had you in mind as they stared out the clouded windows blocked by iron bars, you were among them, i think, the dummies in the dummy factory that backed up to our backyard...when they found fault and told me i was useless, and i wondered what use i'd be when i got older, that's when i wanted to slip inside you to until was all over, until they were done screaming at me, done looking at me, they were always filled with disgust by the time they finished listening to themselves, and it was all this i was trying to escape so that i wouldn't have to listen to it all over again, it never changed, it was always the same blame, the same accusations, the same predictions that i'd come to nothing, that i'd be nothing, that i was nothing...and it seemed too blissful a thing to avoid wishing for at moments like those, to be truly nothing, to kook upon the world as you did, to let them all write their wishes upon whatever it was they saw in your face, in your eyes, and at the end of it, whether they succeeded or failed, to feel nothing for them especially if they gave you nothing of themselves to feel anything about...this is what i wanted because i knew it wasn't going to stop, not ever, not until i grew up and got out, and even then, i'd carry their words with me always, as well as my memories of you looking back at me through that window and those rusted bars to say memories would never be enough, not ever...