Knowlege isn't Understanding.

I rub the sleep out of my eyes, and sit up, shivering at the coolness of my bedroom this morning. I didn't get to put the heating on until the middle of winter, when it was too cold to feel my blue-tinged toes, and when it took twice as long to get the hot water running in the shower. I snuggled into the coveres, and buried my stiff, tear-covered face into my salty smelling pillow. I must've stayed awake pretty late, 'cause it's still damp.

Unlike what others think, my first thoughts of a new day aren't what kind of ramen I will eat, or what prank I will decide to inflict upon my newly chosen victim.

My day starts off with a light gray sky, where I don't care what colour it will become later on.

Where I don't care if the birds still sing, 'cause every note reminds me teasingly of what I never remember having, and never will.

Where I don't care for savouring the early morning silence, and also where I don't feel.

When I stuff away all of the dark and stabbing hurtfulness away, futilely hoping for the best: that it wont come crashing out at a bad time.

When I try to think of something happy, but only end up looking through empty cupboards of memories..

Such is my first thought of the day:

I grasp onto the desire for love like a drowning puppy onto it's saviour. I savour what I think it must feel, because now, there's no one to come and help me here, all alone in the cold.

Un-noticed.

My first thought often leads me ontto the second, where I bitterly shove it back too. Just like all of the other sadness.

The fact that I can't remember being hugged by my father, or held by my mother.

The fact that I can't remember what they sounded like, or where I lived.

Hell. I don't even know where I was born, so how should I know what my dead parents looked like?!

I feel a slight hysteria stir inside of my being, like a leaf does in the wind.

I try to dam the tears slipping from the corners of my eyes, running down my scarred cheeks, and pooling into the corner or my mouth and nose.

It never works.

Once the dam breaks, the water floods through, as salty as the bitter smile that wobbles off my face when my eyes clench shut tight.

A loosing situation.

And I'm the one loosing it...

Just like the dobe that they call me.

Hate mingles with the everlasting sadness in my chest. My eyebrows furrow at the thought of my classmates. Assholes.

All of them. Not me.

Them.

They are nothing more than bystanders to the eathrquake that shakes me, and slowly tears me apart. They do nothing to stop the hurt from raining down upon me, and they even add to the acid damage. The villagers know what they are doing, they know!

Yet nothing is being done to stop it. Nothing is being done to help.

Un-salvaged.

If they ever bothered to understand what I went through every morning, repetitively. Every damn day of the week, month. Hell, even year.

I roughly wipe the salty teardrops away from my dirty face and sniff. Long and deep.

In..

Out..

I cannot do anything about this situation I am caged in, a never ending spiral.. Uzumaki. Just like my last name.

I don't even know if it was my fathers real name.

I can only beat my fists upon the solid, steel bars until they are raw and bloody from my hopeless efforts. Perhaps then they will notice me...

I am not a songbird that can cry out its pleading melody.

I am simply a caged child with a demon fox inside of him. I can only scream until my throat is raw.

I can only cry until my eyes run out of tears..

And then,

I can only hope that oblivion will hear my plea,

Notice me..

I can only pray that it will come and take me, put me..

Far, far away....

Un-deluded delirium:

Rest.