Another brick in the wall

I was just a brick. Nothing but a mixture of molecules and particles with a dash of atoms.

Nothing more than a brick with stilts. 

The world was painted ashen grey. 

Dull and frightening. 

I was a brick that wore thick coats of the color chosen by someone else controlling my life.

I was a brick; just like you.

On the top five list of what we fall through is; letting others define our humanity.

I'm not talking about society. I'm talking about pressure points, swollen tonsils, downing blue and pink pills. I'm talking about the man upstairs and the little goblin hiding beneath the boundaries of Hell and Hollywood. 

I'm talking about the girl next door who only dates guys with piercings and skull tattoos.

I'm talking of sin and anarchy. The model posing half nude on page sixty-one.

I'm talking of different shades of magenta and violet. 

Teachers paint layer after layer of math equations, grammar corrections, notebook inspections. 

Parents stain us with drawing curtains, gifted notions, Colosseum battles, and fixated punishments.

We let peers and strangers take control of what we wish to be. 

I am another brick creating this boarder between humanity and destruction.

I am another brick aligning with the stars that mock my indifference.

This wall separates us from walking down State Street with pigtails and a bowling pin in the grip of our hands.

This wall keeps tearing us down.

Day by day suppressed symbols and colors drained from a spray can cover me.

"All in all you're just another brick in the wall."

Simple, yet powerful statement. 

I never truly understood it until I grew older. I got a slap in the face as I knew what and how it felt.

I kept saying to myself;  all in all I'm yet another brick in the wall.