what being a teenager in today's society feels like

how do you write a story
when the words just aren't there
or they're out of reach
floating above your head-
fingers skimming the bottom of them
every time you try to jump back in control-
but they tease you
always dressed in grey silk so you never know
what they truly are
(isn't it funny
how that can be applied to so many other things?)
they always say 
"speak up"
but when we ready our guns loaded
with our personal truths
they pull up their shields
bouncing our bullets back towards us
labelling us as the victim
saying it's our fault
& sooner or later
we stop trying
we stop talking
we stop attempting to make them understand
                               to be heard
& we place tape over our mouths
but they drew the stencil
they bought the tape
they guided our fingers to press it down
over our voice
sometimes
they shove it down our throat
preventing us from saying anything at all.
with tape over my lips
i form words
          sentances 
          stories
behind closed eyelids
i see what i could be
a fragment of my former self
a fragment i never knew i had
a fragment i'm slowly attempting to revive
i'm peeling off the tape
bit by bit
untill the stickiness dries
& it's useless
i can yank it off
speak my truth
but even if i did
even if i scream to the world
even if i tell them what happened
give them a glimpse of the colors i see
give them a glimpse of what i see on my side of the tracks

would they believe me?

would they even listen?